Worth of a Soul
by WithoutHesitation
Summary: Sequel to 'Snuck Up.' Everything was going perfectly. Until it blew up. Now her family knows her secrets, her right to visit the Neitherworld is at risk, her best friend almost kills her... And Vincent demands that she decide her own eternal destiny. Now.
1. Vincent Reenters

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Yeah, I actually _did_ intend a break... . Best laid plans, and all that.

Okay, the common theme from everybody about the end of the last book seemed to be this… OMG, how could Prince Vince do that! What a jerk! How evil! Etc, etc… Well, okay, so he _wasn't_ exactly written to be evil, however you read it. Therefore, I'm doing my best to prove that fact with a glimpse into his life a year later… It's amazing how much a year spent dwelling on the love you lost, can change someone. This being said… He _is _trying to do what's best for her, in his own way. It's just everybody _else _that better not piss him off… Which means anyone, _anyone_, trying to keep him and Lydia apart…

But that's just _part _of the story… The part I'm starting with.

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Juno sucked on the cigarette between her fingers, like it was the source of her strength, scowling at the most recent file of her two most active 'clients.' She'd long since given up on dragging either one of them in for any minor infraction… It was faster to do it herself, and a lot less irritating. And this _was _probably just another minor infraction. They left her with another of those almost every week. Apparently, if she'd thought going easy on those two would inspire them to behave, she'd been badly mistaken.

The door to her office chose that moment to fly open without warning, and the caseworker lifted her head, a steady string of insults ready for whoever had interrupted her this time… Only for the words to stop at, "Who the hell-?" Before she saw _exactly _who the hell, and fell quiet.

Prince Vince stood in the doorway to her office, a far more imposing figure than he'd been just a year before. His long black hair, cast with a wet sheen in his face, his deathly black eyes, pits of warning and stony awareness of his own station… He stood, not like a prince, but like a king. Rather than the break-up with the Lydia girl having pushed him back into his previous, passive self, it had awakened something in him… He took an active role in the workings of neitherworld law that his family hadn't bothered with in generations, and was well known, and very well respected. He was also a man no one cared to cross… And if they did, weren't given the chance to cross twice.

"I require your council, Juno." He said softly, with that quiet spoken voice that demanded instant attention, without ever raising. Without waiting for permission, he came into her office, swinging the door shut silently behind him, and came to a stop in front of her desk… Not sitting, but continuing to stare down at her. When she would have risen to meet him, he raised his hand, stopping her. "I trust this will take but a moment."

Belatedly, Juno put out her cigarette, having learned long before that the prince just didn't like them. That left her without the familiar comfort, as she was forced to crane her neck up to look at him, the fact driven home at every turn that _he_ was calling the shots here, not her. "I trust this is about the Deetz girl?" She attempted, with some small trace of her usual unimpressed manner. "She is usually the reason you see fit to make these personal visits…" Far, far too many personal visits, for her taste…

Prince Vince met her gaze with his depthless, black eyes, and sending the moment into an even more precarious one, smiled, just a little. "Miss Lydia…" He agreed softly, a trace of fond affection touching the name even now, when to her knowledge, the two of them were nothing more than friends these days. And despite the fact that it was Prince Vince who made their times together few and far between, and not the other way around. "Yes, you assume correctly. I'd like to discuss the matter of my dear Lydia's visa… If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

Not for an instant did Juno mistake that as a request, or anything but a command. She considered the prince with a sudden touch of unease. "You're revoking the girl's visa?" She prompted, starting to reach for her slender, familiar source of comfort, and forcing herself to pull her hand away at the last moment. Damn, if that wouldn't cause another headache with those two… There was no telling if they'd actually comply, and if they didn't-

"On the contrary," Prince Vince denied smoothly, resting his hand, fingers splayed, across her desk, "I'm here to see that her right to come and go as she pleases in the neitherworld, is _never _revoked." This was the last thing Juno had expected, and she considered the royal with a briefly quizzical look. He inclined forward, just slightly, in a way that included her into his conspiriorations. "What do you remember about the visa that was issued to my precious Lydia, Juno, all those years ago?"

Damn. Was she supposed to remember every piece of paperwork that crossed her desk over the centuries? "I'll have to have it brought in," She muttered, reaching for the intercom, "Hold on…"

Vince caught her hand, staying her, his grip like steel. "Not necessary." He denied coolly, dropping a folder he hadn't possessed a moment before, onto her desk. "I made a point of keeping a copy." He did not yet draw his hand away, but all Juno could do was stare at it, pointedly, until he did. More from pity, she suspected, than any actual need. The prince had really turned into a real piece of work… Determined to prove himself, and earn the respect of his followers, in a way no Royal had been since she'd crossed over to this side. And he'd learned every trick of intimidation…

And if he was believed, was currently determined to use every one of them at his disposal, to serve his precious, unrequited love. "Here, I believe." He flicked the pages open expertly to the right one and pointed out a single line of print on the paper. "You do see the problem, don't you?"

Juno reluctantly turned her eyes from him, to the folder in question, and read the sentence he was indicating. Then paused, and read it again. And cursed softly, under her breath. "Just a little addendum my parents added to the contract, to make certain my interest would be forced to wane with time." He explained quietly, then went on to explain further, in case she hadn't gotten it, "This visa was issued for the sole purpose of use by a minor, Juno. In less than three months, Lydia Deetz will turn seventeen, legal age in the neitherworld. The permission that she's had, until now, to come and go unchecked, will be revoked."

The case worker took in an unnecessary breath, closed her eyes, and leaned back in her chair, weighing this. Damn. If the Royals had gone this far, no doubt they'd put up barriers as well, to prevent a new, adult visa, from being granted. She tapped her finger slowly on her desk, before opening her eyes again, leaning forward, and studying the visa at greater length… As she should have done years before.

"My parents," He explained again, fanning the fingers of both hands across her desk now, and leaning in even closer, "Have taken every action at their disposal, to make certain that I never see my dear Lydia again… At least not until she passes. If even then, she moves on to the neitherworld at all. As I'm certain you're aware, there are other options available to a newly dead soul…"

Juno nodded slowly. In her personal opinion, one she'd always held, Beetlejuice and Lydia had just the one life they'd have together. The girl's soul was bound for bigger and better things, and she'd never questioned that. She wouldn't be trapped in the neitherworld, neither here nor there… Not someone like Lydia Deetz. She'd make it through. But now, this… "What did you have planned?" She asked quietly, studying the papers herself, for some glimpse of what the prince had in mind.

Without pause for explanation, the prince reached out, and flipped to another page, easily, as if he'd done this himself many times before, in anticipation of this very moment. "My parents always overlook things they have no desire to see." He explained, pointing to a new line, with that faint trace of a smile again. "Whereas I myself, found that particular loophole to their plans, mere days after I met my Lydia." The more Juno read, the more uneasy she looked. "What do you think my chances are, of success, good Juno?"

The caseworker looked up slowly, admiring, for a moment, the plotting mind of the neitherworld prince, before she asked him in no uncertain terms, "Do you realize what you're suggesting? What your plan will cost the girl?" Her voice rose, just a fraction, more than she would usually dare with the dangerous man, "Are you doing this for her, or for yourself?"

Prince Vince's eyes betrayed no reaction, but again, that smile curled across his lips, and she saw it this time for what it was, what it meant. He'd never given up on the Deetz girl. He'd always planned to get her back, and when he did, to get her back _forever_. He might even honestly believe himself that this was what was best for her… But then, this world was all he knew. And apparently, he didn't think twice about the idea of condemning her to it, forever.

"Lydia Deetz is the only woman I've ever loved," Prince Vince explained quietly, the first trace of softness touching those otherwise untouchable black eyes, "And I _will _make her happy. You know how she loves this world, Juno… I will not allow her to be forced to surrender it forever. But in the end… It will be her decision. I give you my word on this."

"A decision she has no way to understand the consequences of!" Juno pointed out, growing more and more frustrated by the moment. "You're taking advantage of her desire for something that's good for her now, without weighing what will be best for her down the road! Lydia Deetz is meant for bigger things…!"

"And what could possibly be bigger, than the opportunity to become princess of the neitherworld?" He countered, a bit coldly now, any trace of fondness gone. "Understand this Juno, there is only one thing in this entire neitherworld that means a damn thing to me… You do _not _want it slipping through my fingers." When Juno could only stare, frustrated and useless, he finally straightened up, smoothing his jacket, as he went on calmly, saying, "I trust you'll give me your full support in this plan, then?"

What could she say? Prince Vince was, without a doubt, one of the most powerful people who had _ever_ ruled in the neitherworld… Already with hordes of devoted followers that demanded his distant ancestors' step down from the throne, that he might rule it, the way the neitherworld had once been ruled, millennia before her memory. If he had his way, it was entirely possible that not only would Lydia one day be princess of the neitherworld… She might well be queen.

"I understand." Juno agreed quietly, against every instinct that screamed at her to object. "You'll have my full cooperation."

"Thank you." Prince Vince murmured politely, reclaiming the file, and stepping back from her desk in a way that was nothing but dismissive. "Once things have worked their way through, I will see that you are compensated for your efforts." And with this he was gone… This time not even using the door.

Juno lowered her head to her hands, and reclaimed her cigarette, this one already lit. She didn't even seem aware of it. This was _why_, she saw suddenly, this was the reason for the prince's sudden change from his parents' obedient lap dog, into a man who made even them think twice about annoying. All his bids for power, his entire, ungodly fast climb to the top… It was all for one living girl. He'd never given up on Lydia Deetz. And if he had his way, her world would never be the same again.

And there wasn't a damn thing she could do…

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Lydia's first impression, on waking, was of being cocooned in a soft breath of cool air… With her eyes closed, she could almost see it in her mind, a delicate silver bubble, wavering, fragile as a thought, encircling her from head to toe. More gradually, she also became aware of a foot thrown across her ankles, bare, cold, and a strong chest pressed into her back, while lifeless fingers sought the bare skin of her stomach with slow, lazy strokes.

She smirked, briefly, being she threw Beetlejuice off, and sat up, giving him her best exasperated glare. The ghost with the most just grinned like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, who knew damn well he wasn't going to get into trouble for it, a look of smug contentment written across every feature. "You know, babes…" He drawled, in a matter-of-fact way, "I used to hate when you wore those shapeless gray things to bed… But I gotta tell you, I'm getting used to it. Now, I know you wouldn't think I would…"

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?" She demanded, looking more amused than anything, as she shucked the layers of covers, and swung her feet to the floor, sparing him another, tolerant glance, before she stood.

"Shit, babes… Do we have to go over this again?" He stretched, exposing pale, decidedly hairy flesh, scratched his chest, and gave her his best leer. "Hell, if you're gonna have dreams like that about me, I wanna at least be able to watch! You look damn sexy when you're having those kinda dreams, I gotta tell you…"

Lydia paused, already going through her dresser, and not quite looking back at him, asked with a tease, "What makes you think they were about you?" She then pulled out a blood-red sweater that flattered her figure, and a pair of tight black jeans… Pointedly not yet getting dressed. She remembered what had happened, the last time she'd gotten dressed in her own room…

"Really?" He asked silkily, waiting until she turned back around, and then tucking his hands beneath his chin in a way that was supposed to be feminine, and in her own soft voice, echoing, "Oh, Beej! Hm-mm, do that again…!" He ended it with an eerie little giggle, then dropped his act, and looked at her with a leer, while Lydia stood there at a loss for anything to say. "Admit it, babes. We both know you want me."

At last Lydia just made a small sound in the back of her throat, making a face. "It is _so_ creepy when you do that. You know that, don't you?" Before she tucked her clothes under her arm, and made to leave for the bathroom, intending to get dressed there.

"Oh, no you don't!" Beetlejuice growled, snagging her easily from behind, turning her… And somehow or other, ending up in her bed, with her beneath him. "Goddamnit, Lyds…" He hissed, pressing his face into her waves of loose black hair, breathing in her smell, hard. "How long are you going to make me fucking wait? It's been a _year_…"

"It hasn't been a year!" She protested, quickly doing a mental check to make sure it really hadn't… "Nine months, tops!" At this point though, anything further she had to say was swallowed up by his seeking mouth, as he devoured her lips hungrily, fingers dancing along her ribs and belly, before those tingling, ghostly kisses, progressed to her throat with single minded determination. Her willpower began to weaken, and her eyes fluttered closed, drinking in the heady sense of his touch, of his magic, devouring her like a man starving for something to eat… "God, Beej… That's not fair." She whispered weakly.

"Never said I was going to play fair…" He murmured, tugging her gray sweat shirt up now, his hands disappearing beneath the soft folds, as he teased her unmercifully. "Hell, you wanna talk about fair… Nine months is the longest dry spell I've had, since I was a kid! You're killing me, babes… Again!"

"Y-you're a pig…" She murmured, closing her eyes, and winding her arms loosely around his wide shoulders. "G-god damn it, Beej… Get off me…" This last was not really a strong enough objection to stop the poltergeist, but she accompanied it by a weak blow to his ear, and he sighed, rolling off her, and considering her panting, limp form. She meanwhile, remained lying there, staring up at nothing at all, her eyes oddly fixed, her lips parted. "G-god _damn _it…"

Beetlejuice snorted, fixed his cufflinks, and pointedly looked anywhere else. He wasn't going to push her… Not past a certain point. Not _Lyds_. But hell, it was clear she wanted it just as much as he did. Her wide pupils and flushed skin attested to that. "You're wasting a perfectly good opportunity to screw, you know that, don't you?" He muttered, lips turned up with a trace of bitter humor.

Girl didn't appreciate the hell she was putting him through… But she'd give in, sooner or later. Hell, he'd wait, if he had to. Not that he wanted to… He decided to change the subject, his voice just a trace wistful. "You know, even if that oversized blanket of an outfit is cute on you, I'd still love it if you came to bed sometime, wearing that slinky black number again."

Lydia was sitting up slowly, fixing her eyes on him with a slightly unfocused gaze… And there it was, the trace of anger, the hot flush of her cheeks, when she realized how close she'd been to giving into him. _Again_. This might as well be a daily ritual, now. But it still always seemed to piss her off. Broads. Who could figure them? And Lyds was one of the easier ones to understand, by his book…

But she wouldn't show that she was mad, or that she was, as he figured it, probably more upset with herself, than him. "If I went to sleep in something that sheer, I'd wake up half frozen." She informed him, with a slightly forced calm, and an over the top exaggeration. "See, I've got this dead guy that likes sneaking into bed with me… Pretty much every _night_."

"Look at it this way, babes… Least you know where I am." And he bared his teeth at her in a crooked grin, making any trace of annoyance leave her, that quickly. She sighed, ran her fingers through her hair, and shot him an affectionate glance, before reclaiming her clothes, and readying to head into the bathroom again. "Hey, Lyds, hold on…"

Lydia paused, and looked back at him, wary for any more tricks. "Uh-huh?"

"You, me… The Abusement Park? Don't forget that's today." He straightened from her bed, snapping his fingers, instantly dressed in his trademark black and white suit. "You bring that new neitherworld camera you picked up, I guarantee you'll get shots that'll stop a few breathers' hearts." He cocked an eyebrow at her, adding innocently, "Maybe show your moms later…"

"Urg." Lydia didn't dignify this with a response, but she did look pleased, and he'd learned well to read when she was really excited about something. "But you have to promise not to let me ride any of the rides," She cautioned, "No matter how much I beg. We're there to take pictures, and enjoy a few cheesy carnival games, that's it. Not get me killed." She added, with a gesture over her shoulder, "Why don't you get my camera while I get dressed? It's in the bottom drawer." And like that, she left him.

Beetlejuice sighed… Of course the only reason he didn't spy on her, well, other than her being able to sense him every time he turned, was because the girl fucking trusted him not to. Not that the one was necessarily entirely unrelated to the other. Not bothering to bend over, he merely glanced at her dresser, and made the drawer in question fly open, and her newest acquisition come flying into his hands.

Shutting it, almost as an afterthought, he turned her current favorite toy over in his hands, musing that he should have been the one to buy her something like this… Not made her buy it herself. She _should_ have had one years ago. Instead, she'd had to save up, to buy it on her own. He couldn't afford shit for a decent present… And it had been almost a year- _Nine months_- he corrected himself with a grimace, since he'd given her the last one. Though, since when did he care about that shit?

"Since Lyds." He muttered, dropping his weight against the wall, and waiting for her to emerge. Fuck if he'd ever thought it would frustrate him, not having money to buy nice things for a broad… Maybe he should turn his old place upside down a few times. See if he'd missed anything. The only alternative to this of course, being actual work… And that was out. Other than the odd, easy way to make a buck, of course. Maybe he should try that handyman gig in town again… Shit, he was going over this much stress for a chick that wasn't even putting out?

Shaking his head over how love, or something that passed for it, could change a guy, he briefly considered giving up on the girl, going down to the nearest bar, and forgetting this whole damn thing had ever-

His thoughts got about this far before Lydia floated back through the door, grinning, and all he could do was realize how fucking hot the girl looked in pretty much everything she had on. He'd love to see how she looked with nothing on… "Ready, Beej?" She prompted excitedly. Beetlejuice have a small, noncommittal grunt, wondering if the girl had somehow gone up a cup size, without him noticing. "Beetlejuice!"

The poltergeist blinked, looked up at her in puzzlement, taking in her amused look, and slowly broke out in a grin. "Two more times, babes." He murmured easily, wondering at just what point the girl had stopped using the mirror, and come to rely solely on his juice. Not that he didn't love the excuse for a little innocent groping in the darkness…

"Hmm." Lydia took her camera from him with a smirk. "You forgot the damn poncho. Or do you _want _me to freeze my ass off?"

"Hell no," He muttered, watching said ass intently, as she bent back over her drawers, "Losing that ass would be a crime against every man alive… or dead, for that matter." He quickly found somewhere else to look, as she straightened, and fixed him with a rueful set to her pretty lips. He did his best to look innocent… A look he'd never been able to fucking pull off worth shit, and knew it.

Before he could dwell on it though, he had a minor revelation. That was it, he realized suddenly, she was sick of the damn poncho… He'd get her something else. A nice coat. Well, a cheap coat, but a decent one. Pleased by finding such an easy solution to his problem, he now began weighing the options of actually buying it, or just swiping it, when no one was looking? "Two more times, babes!" He said again, lifting his arm in an invitation for her to snuggle under it. "Unless I forgot anything el-"

"Lydia?" The quiet, subdued tones broke through his words, making them both briefly freeze. "I need to talk to you. Are you awake?"

God damn… _Olivia_? Since when did she give his girl the fucking time of day, anymore? Before he could urge Lydia to hurry, she was already grabbing him hard around the waist, her face buried against his rough coat, the words spilling from her twice more in a rush. "_Beetlejuice-Beetlejuice!_"

And the darkness swallowed them up, and the bitch, Olivia, could wait. _Thank god for being dead…_

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Olivia waited a full minute to crack the door open, quietly, to peek and see if Lydia was still in bed. She really needed to talk to someone… And she knew her teenage daughter wasn't the best candidate for spilling her heart out to, but she'd already been over this discussion a million times with Adam and Barb. She needed new insight… And it wasn't like it didn't concern the girl. They probably should have had this discussion months ago.

She was more than a little surprised, on entering, to find the room empty… A glance at the tousled bed said that her daughter had left in a hurry, but when she laid her hand on the sheets, they were cool to the touch. She must have left a while ago then… Funny she hadn't _seen _her leave. She'd been up for hours, herself.

A little disheartened, she closed her daughter's door again slowly, then leaned against it, weighing her options. But then again, the last thing she really wanted to think about, were the problems she was having with her husband… Not without someone to lend a sympathetic ear. And okay, again, their daughter might not be the best choice, but…

She shook her head, and decided to find solace in the Maitlands' company. Again. The last time she'd seen them, they were discussing renovations to the attic… They hadn't done that since her own parents lived there, sort of giving ownership rights, and all the little details of it, over to her and Edmond. So why now? Maybe because Edmond hadn't come home in three nights…

Olivia bit her lip, and wondered what she'd do, if the husband she'd relied on so long to be there, just wasn't anymore? She couldn't even put her finger on just what exactly the breaking point had been, some little argument they'd had the week before… She couldn't even remember what it was about. In retrospect, maybe thinking about a little remodeling was just what she needed.

The stairs creaked under her weight, only the ones to the attic ever did that, never the ones downstairs. When she reached the attic door, she knocked. It was only polite, it did serve as their bedroom, after all. She was greeted by a hasty 'come in,' followed almost immediately by the door flying open, and Adam bodily dragging her in by the arm. "Settle this for us, Olivia," He pleaded, indicating the space just off to the side, and above, "Wouldn't a skylight look absolutely perfect up there? I know Barbara and I still have enough money from when we were alive…"

"Those things suck the heat right out of a house, Adam." Barbara countered, in the worst sort of argument the two ever had, where her lips were still turned in an affectionate smile, and her eyes still glowing with love. "Ghosts aren't the only ones living here. Olivia and Lydia need to stay _warm_."

There was a pause after this, not in either of their enthusiastic banterings, but in Olivia's hearing them. Olivia and Lydia, Barbara had said. Not Edmond. As if he just wasn't coming back. She suddenly knew again that she needed someone to talk about this with, someone who hadn't written her husband off, without seeming to give it a second thought. "Have, either of you seen Lydia, this morning?" She interrupted, making both of them pause, and look at her, put briefly off their stride.

"Isn't she still sleeping?" Barbara asked after a moment, looking puzzled. "If she'd decided to go out, I'm sure she would have said something to one of us."

Olivia was not so sure, but that was really the least of the things needling at her at the moment. "I need to talk to her," She said quietly, "About Edmond. And she's not in her room." The Maitlands exchanged glances, and Adam cleared his throat, clearly the one of them designated to say something about this. "She needs to know!" Their adopted daughter interrupted him, before he could. "She's not a stupid girl, she has to have noticed that he hasn't come home!"

Adam paused, letting her get her say out, then noted, in a gentle way, "I'm not sure she has, Liv. She's kept very much to herself lately… There are days where I don't even see her myself, except first thing in the morning, and right before it's time to go to bed." He added, almost apologetically, "She has her own concerns now. And since things haven't been settled between you and Edmond… Maybe it's best if we don't bother her with ours."

_Ours_. Such a simple little word, that sent waves of relief through her, which shouldn't come from such a little word. Above all else, she was not in this alone. She had to remember that. She _needed_ that. "I'd just rather she hears it from me, than her father." Olivia explained quietly, wondering herself whether that was really the truth, or if she was just looking for another source of comfort. That wasn't the way it was supposed to work after all, she was supposed to be comforting her daughter, not the other way around.

She just didn't have anyone else to turn to.

"I'm sure she just went into town for a while." Barbara offered, a little out of the blue, looking utterly unconcerned. "I have a hunch there's someone that's been taking up all this time of hers… Just a hunch, mind you." But the smile she added to this, indicated that maybe Lydia had been sharing secrets with the ghost woman, that she hadn't been sharing with her mother… Though the smile faltered, as she went on to say, "Let her enjoy herself. There's enough time to talk about what's going wrong when the day's over."

Olivia looked at the woman in frustration, knowing damn well she was right, and knowing at the same time that for her, this just wasn't good enough. "I'm going to go look for her." She denied, making Barbara sigh, and Adam pointedly focus his attention elsewhere, like he was disappointed in her decision. She was willing to argue her point though, play the part of a protective mother, even if that wasn't her real motivation… Not that she'd even admit that to herself. "We don't know what's going on in that girl's life anymore. This is as good a time as any to find out."

"Well," Adam offered, albeit a bit reluctantly, "Maybe you should start at the school. Back when you were going there, you used to spend almost all the time you weren't with us, in the parks around there, taking pictures." A pause, and a trace of subtle humor, as he added, "I can almost guarantee you that's what she's doing now, date or no. Taking pictures."

"Thanks." Olivia murmured, telling herself she would have figured it out without him, but grateful for the offer of help. "Anything you need me to pick you two up?"

"Not yet." Adam was studying their surroundings again, clearly going over the changes he wanted to make again, before flashing her a smile, and a fatherly wink. "Don't worry, as soon as we get sorted out what we want done, we'll be asking you to make plenty of trips for us, Liv."

Olivia shot him a tolerant look, some inner part of her suddenly not as upset over the idea of Edmond's absence, as she had been a moment before. The Maitlands had been her family first, and they would always be there for her. It wouldn't be entirely bad, things going back to the way they used to be… Maybe. That didn't mean she didn't still want Edmond to stop being so goddamn pig-headed…

Her mind was racing with a thousand different scenarios of what the next few days might hold… At least a dozen different ways her conversation with Lydia might go, when she found her… And far more variations of what her next meeting with her husband might entail. With her head as far up in the clouds as it was, it was remarkable the woman didn't get into an accident on her way into town.

But by chance or fate, she suddenly found herself pulling into the first of the beautiful parks that surrounded the school, and slowed the car to a crawl, before parking, and getting out. Instantly she was hit by the chill wind of a late Connecticut winter, and drew her scarf a little further around her face, squinting her eyes against the biting wind. Why on earth would Lydia come here, on a day like this? Adam must have lost track of which month it was…

Nevertheless, though a cursory glance around didn't reveal her daughter's tell-tale black coat, she didn't immediately get back in the car, taking a step forward instead, and admiring the glassy sheen of the trees, weighted by creaking, brittle ice. It _was _beautiful, come to think of it. She used to come here all the time, for pictures like the one of the crystal-laden lilac branches before her…

Actually, she realized with a little pang of memory, she used to come here all the time with Edmond, to get away from both their parents. His had been even harder to deal with than hers… But like hers, they too had left Winter River years before. Even back then, all he used to talk about, was starting a family. That, and how lucky he was to have a girl like her. Olivia pursed her lips, and found the tree they'd used to sit under for hours, planning their futures together. It was bigger than she remembered it. But then, trees grew, didn't they?

With a sigh, she decided that this was actually the last place she wanted to be, and without her camera to give her the excuse of taking pictures, she turned to head back to her car… Only to see a familiar, stern-featured woman, also older than she remembered her, examining the old sedan with a clear expression of distaste. The woman herself was likewise, one of the last people Olivia wanted to talk to… She'd made enough of an impression on her, during her high school years, to ever after avoid a confrontation, whenever possible.

Unfortunately, at the moment, it didn't seem possible at all, because the sharp-tongued woman was between her and her car, and she _wasn't _walking home. Taking a deep breath, she narrowed her eyes, and did her level best to walk right past the woman, without giving her the benefit of a glance. Just as she reached the door however, she was struck by a sudden stab of inspiration. Lydia was a Junior this year, wasn't she? That would make Miss Shannon her teacher… And Miss Shannon made a habit of being in all her students' businesses.

Steeling herself, again, she turned back to the woman, as if only now noticing she was there. "Miss Shannon!" She greeted her, as if the experience was somehow a pleasant one, "I haven't seen you in years! You're teaching my daughter now, aren't you?"

The teacher in question, still inspecting the stylized spider insignia on the car's hood, turned to her almost reluctantly, considering her through narrowed eyes for upwards of a minute, before making a sound of recognition. "Olivia." She murmured, almost to herself, as if confirming a hunch. "You wouldn't by any chance be talking about Lydia Deetz, would you? I'd heard you married that Edmond boy…" A pause, as she pointedly turned back to the apparently offensive artwork, and clicked her tongue in dismay. "Well, it's easy to see why the apple doesn't fall far from _that_ tree."

Biting back her initial sharp response, followed by swallowing her quick need to offer some sort of acceptable excuse to her former authority figure, she finally paused long enough to collect her thoughts, and managed, in a surprisingly casual voice, to ask, "I was just wondering if you'd seen her today? She left early this morning, and I want to make certain she's staying out of trouble…"

Miss Shannon's head snapped up, as if on a string, and the suddenly critical expression on her face, far outweighed any contempt she had over the painted spider. "You want to make certain she stays out of trouble?" She echoed, almost contemptuously. "Well, better late than never, certainly! Though why you didn't start to do something years ago…!"

Anger flushed Olivia's cheeks, driving out any sense of the outside cold. Was this woman suggesting that she was a bad mother? "I don't know what you mean," She denied stonily, now meeting the woman's gaze without flinching, "Lydia is a perfectly responsible girl. She never stays out too late, she gets wonderful grades, she never gets into fights, and she hasn't been in _any _trouble that _I'm _aware of!"

"That you're _aware _of?" Miss Shannon did her best to look even more contemptuous. "Well perhaps you don't consider it to be causing trouble for a girl of her young years to be regularly in the company of a man twice her age…!"

Olivia's mind, ready to barrel forward with more reasons why her daughter was a good girl, and thus, how she hadn't failed as a parent, came to a skidding, confused stop, and she was left staring at the woman uselessly, without any clue what she was talking about. "A man twice her age?" She echoed at last, far more quietly than her screaming, frantic, furious brain demanded. "What are you talking about?"

Brief surprise flickered across the teacher's face, and she narrowed her eyes at Lydia's mother with a small, pursing frown to her lips. "Are you going to tell me that you honestly didn't know?" She demanded haughtily, as if somehow this were even more unforgivable. "She's been wandering around town in his company for _years_… I always assumed he was just a friend of the family. Though why anyone would wish to be friends with such a disreputable creature, much less trust their daughter to him…!"

This was roughly where she broke off, possibly because Olivia now had the older woman's heavy coat front balled up in both fists, teeth gritted, as she demanded in a no-nonsense growl, "_Who-the-fuck-are-you talking-about_?" The possibilities spun through her mind without mercy… Some predator, taking advantage of her daughter? Years? _What had he done to her?_

Miss Shannon looked, to say the least, surprised, maybe even shaken. "I don't know his name!" She snapped right back, put on the defensive. "Some grimy looking thing who does odd jobs around town, always wearing the same filthy long coat!" Her voice dropping a little, she pushed Olivia off her, with surprising strength. "I would think you would have some idea what's occurring in your own daughter's life, Mrs. Deetz! Do not blame me for your lacking!"

With that, she turned her back on the other woman, and stormed away, sallow cheeks flushed pink, eyes sparking in indignation, and leaving Olivia with the horrible sense of just not knowing what was going on anymore.

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	2. Cats and Bags

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Okay, see, I was torn whether to end the chapter when I did, or continue, and add several more pages, and a glimpse into, what instead, will be the next chapter. Er, something like that. Anyhow, I'm already getting such a positive response, I love it. You're all awesome... ;) Please continue to enjoy... I know some of you have been waiting for this chapter for a while. Hope I did it justice. Let the drama begin! (Corny, I know...)

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She'd gone over every worst case scenario by this point, surely, and was beginning to reach a new point of flat calm in her thinking. No longer was she wandering aimlessly through the city, looking for any sign of her daughter and her mysterious companion, who surely wouldn't let themselves be seen anyway… But now, for someone, anyone, with answers.

Olivia barely recognized the pair sitting the squat and grungy diner, when she walked in, but something made her stop and stare, regardless. There was a familiarity about them… Weren't they Lydia's friends? It'd been a long time since she'd seen them, and time had changed the girls. They really looked nothing like the gangling, awkward youth, and pensive little bookworm, she remembered. At the moment she couldn't even remember their names. But it _was _them. Lydia's best friends, to her mother's knowledge. They would _know_.

Striding up to their table with a purpose, she stopped shortly, and looked down at them with a stony gaze, making the two quickly notice her, and look suddenly like they wanted to be anywhere else. "Where is my daughter?" Olivia demanded, almost accusingly, like it was just their job to know such things. Her initial panic ended, she wanted to believe that Lydia was smarter than her fears, that she had good reason for her friendship with this… strange, older man. She wanted to believe it… But she needed to know, and right then, she needed to find them _both_.

The taller of the two, Olivia still couldn't recall her name, managed a half-hearted grin, her fingers nervously playing with her fork. A fact that normally, Olivia would pay no attention to. At the moment though, it just sang to her of the girl's guilt…

"Lydia?" The young woman laughed, as if this were a silly question. "Mrs. Deetz, we almost never see Lydia anymore… Maybe once a month. I mean, she's still in high school, and I'm in my second year of community college, and Prudence…" She made an absent gesture at her friend, who looked unusually grim-faced. "She's in her second year of being a teacher's assistant at the community college, before she goes off to University. We've all, kind of made new friends."

New friends? Olivia tightened her jaw, briefly, not smiling. "It's new friends that I want to talk about." She denied, making the girl's own smile flicker, then vanish. "Or apparently old friends… Ones I just didn't know about." A weighted pause, before, in a low, deliberately menacing tone, "You do know who I'm talking about, don't you, girls?"

"Er- I really don't." The taller girl said again, lying more or less well, though this time, Olivia's eyes really weren't for her, but for her companion. The uncomfortable look in the smaller girl's gaze had deepened, and she was now stirring her strawberry milkshake with an almost fascinated methodicalness. She was, Olivia was suddenly certain, the one who'd crack.

"Lydia's a really good girl!" The other hurried on, as she saw the older woman change her focus to her companion, shooting a tight lipped glance at the other over the table. "And I'm sure she only has really nice friends too! But I don't know where-!"

"She's probably with Mr. Beetleman." The redhead interrupted quietly, apparently reaching the point where she could keep herself silent no longer. And if her friend's jaw dropped, as her mind clearly raced for something to say…

…Olivia was currently very much in her own personal version of hell, far away from either one of them, as she turned the name she'd been offered over in her mind, slowly. Beetleman? _Beetle_-man? No, that name… It couldn't be coincidence. Two men, with the name _Beetle_… The name of the ghost who still haunted her nightmares… It couldn't be anyone but him. Her life didn't _work _that way.

Her throat dry, she was briefly convinced that her heart had come to a stop within her, her hand instinctively seeking her chest for some trace she was wrong. At the moment though, she was too lost to tell either way. Any further argument between the two, any further sound at all, was lost on her. She'd thought she ran every worst case scenario in her mind already… But not one of those worst case scenarios had included _Beetlejuice_.

Slowly, slowly she came back to herself, to see the two girls staring at her, guiltily, worriedly. Neither one offering any defense, for the secret they'd kept. "Beetleman." She heard herself echo softly, as if it were some stranger, who had far more possession of her senses, currently asking the questions here. "And how long exactly has she known, Mr. Beetleman?"

"Years, I guess." The quiet girl murmured, quickly turning back to her milkshake. Now that she'd confessed, she seemed to wish she hadn't, rather than looking relieved. But that didn't stop her from continuing, telling the woman, "He's the local handyman… I'm pretty sure you know him. At least, Lydia always hinted that you did…"

"Prudence!" The tall girl squealed, clearly not sure whether to look more angry or scared. "Mr. Beetleman's a nice guy…" There was, it seemed, no more use denying his existence, but she wasn't going down for her friend without a fight. "I can't believe you told! You know Lydia doesn't like us- And he'd never, _ever _hurt Lydia! You know that!"

The girl, Prudence, went on like she hadn't heard. "He does all the weird jobs no one else wants…" She murmured, a little under her breath, "And he _smells _like it too."

"He does _not _smell bad!" The other protested again, her expression making it clear that she knew she was fighting a losing battle. She seemed about to press it further, then hesitated, and murmured, "I mean… Not _really_…" A small pause, before, almost in surrender, "Lydia always said he smelled a little like a basement, or old clothes. But she never said he smelled _bad_."

A silence fell after this, or at least it might have been a silence. Olivia's ears were really ringing far too loudly for her to hear much else at the moment anyway. Everything they'd said just seemed to confirm her worst fears. Beetlejuice had came back for her daughter, just like he'd said he would… And she hadn't even known. Fuck. She hadn't even _known_.

It seemed Prudence, having finally broken her silence, was not yet done with her long-held confession. Like she just couldn't seem to stop the flow of words, though she seemed to look more and more ill with every one. "He works at the cemetery sometimes, and once a year he throws the Halloween party at Miss Shannon's…" Her breath caught in her throat, as she wondered too late if she were doing the right thing. And still she just kept talking. "He's kind of-"

"Get up." Olivia's command cut her off, finally, and the petite redhead looked almost relieved, staring pointedly at nothing at all, looking like she wanted to be sick. Meanwhile, Olivia wasn't quite certain what exactly had taken her over at the moment, some demon born of fear and anger that seemed to have a lot better idea of what to do than she did, but the wise thing to her, seemed to be to let it take over, so she did.

When the girls just stared at her, she grabbed them, one in each hand, and pulled them bodily to her feet. "Get up!" She snapped, with considerably more force this time, and a strength she didn't usually possess. "We're going to go find Mr. Beetleman! Now!" Not giving either of them a chance to pay their tab, she dragged Lydia's poor friends through the diner, and out the door, the girls looking utterly lost, and more than a little scared about what had taken over their friend's mother.

Olivia didn't say another word to either of them, other than, "Get in," tersely, when they reached the car. They obeyed without protest, wide-eyed, wondering just what kind of trouble they were in. Wondering just who Mr. Beetleman was, that he could cause this kind of response. All Olivia could think, meanwhile, was, _Call him. Not here. Call him somewhere else. Home. See if Lydia's with him. _Goddamn it, how could her daughter be so fucking stupid…!

Bertha, trapped in the back seat with her best friend, gave the girl her most disappointed stare, while Prudence did her best to avoid her gaze altogether. That didn't mean that she didn't already feel horrible. She just, worried about the girl. A lot. Something about him wasn't right, something about _them_ wasn't right. Even if she'd never been able to put her finger on what. And what if they weren't just friends…? She couldn't imagine Lydia…

And she wasn't done trying to explain, whether what she'd done was fair to the girl, or not. "She already knew, Bertha." Pru protested softly, trying to convince herself as much as anyone. "And it's not right… It's just not _right_. It's never been right." A small pause, before even more quietly, "I think there's something wrong with him. He's _weird_, Bertha…"

"So is Lydia." The tall girl muttered, turning to look out the window, sad, and disappointed in her friend. Disappointed, as much as anything else, in the fact that their long time secret had been broken. It was pretty much all that bound the trio together anymore… And as far as she was concerned, even if Beetleman had kind of replaced them in Lydia's eyes, he was still _good_ for her. Why couldn't Pru see that? "You wanna talk about weird… We were weird too. She never minded us."

At this point she paused in her guilt, gradually taking in the fact that they weren't technically in town anymore. Little tingles of alarm raced across her skin, but as nonchalantly as possible, she prompted, "Um, Mrs. Deetz? Where are we going?"

"We're going to find Mr. Beetleman." Olivia answered, with forced calm, even as she took the road that Bertha knew damn well led to her own house. "I just need you girls to confirm a little hunch for me, all right?" A glance, with no trace of anything sane or rational in it, in the rearview mirror. "Make sure I'm going to kill the right guy, that's all."

Prudence and Bertha exchanged glances, clearly not certain if the somewhat crazed woman, currently whipping them down the road at all speeds, meant that literally… And also still not certain, what was going to happen to them in the process. "I think maybe we want to go back…" Bertha ventured, even the normally brave girl unable to force a smile. "Mrs. Deetz…"

It was too late, and she wouldn't have heard the plea anyway. Not now. The car came to a stop with a squeal of tires against the gravel driveway, and almost before it stopped, certainly before she bothered turning it off, Olivia was already out the door, looking around with a fevered, calculating eye. This was it. She was really going to call him.

Unfortunately, that somebody she'd been only moments before, the one that had seemed to have some kind of plan, was steadily slipping away from her. Her mouth was dry, and her hands clenched, and she considered the prospect of summoning _him_ back here, again, after so long of thinking he was out of her life for good. What if it was someone else, after all? _Actually _a coincidence?

But it wasn't, she was somehow certain, maybe just because she lived with the fear of the poltergeist hanging over her head for so long. Deep in the hot, twisting bile that was currently her stomach., she _knew_. It was Beetlejuice. With her daughter. For _years_. First she'd kill him. Then? Then she'd kill Juno, because she knew damn well the woman knew about this… _Files_ indeed!

Her heart still hammering away inside her, she turned back to the girls, standing there, looking scared out of their wits, and wanted to bare her teeth at them. She was almost as angry with them, as him… But instead she smiled. From the looks they gave her though, they would have preferred the baring of teeth.

"Right," She said softly, trying to breathe a little more steadily, as if this would somehow prepare her, "Well, since we're letting secrets out of their bags…!"

And this was all she said, before Olivia turned, with a desperate little twist to her lips, towards her daughter's bike from years before, still embedded in the growing oak. He'd been around that long, she realized now. At least that long. She was going to kill them both. "_Beetlejuice-Beetlejuice-Beetlejuice_!" She hissed, all in one long word, before common sense gave her a chance to change her mind…

There was a brief moment where nothing happened, no longer than the time it took to blink, and yet it made her heart seize in fear. What if that didn't work anymore? Juno had said he'd found a way _out_… Maybe his name couldn't summon him now. A way out… Wait, her daughter? Oh god, was her daughter _married_ to him? Did she have any power over the poltergeist at all anymore?

Then the air suddenly went crazy, as if a siphon formed in the very fabric of reality, and with a loud, forcible sense, like an oxygen tank imploding, none other than the poltergeist himself appeared out of thin air before her, landing gracefully, with a loud bellow of outrage, on his ass. "What the fuck-?" He started to demand, only to pause, with a clear sense of being stunned, when he saw who'd called him. His jaw went slack, briefly. That only lasted a moment though, before he recovered his composure. A sly sneer crossed his lips, and he dropped his arms across his lap, with a smug tilt of his head. "Knew it, Liv." He murmured silkily. "Knew you couldn't resist calling me back here... Well, I gotta tell you, it's too late, 'cause-"

"O-oh my god!" The words interrupted him, and he paused at the familiar voice, frowning. Then with a lean to the side, and a slight twist of his fingers, he slid Olivia out of the way, to see who was standing just out of sight behind her… Which didn't help their reaction.

When _he _saw though, a look of pure fury ripped across his features, outshining even Olivia's. Oddly enough, it was now that she was actually brave enough to grab him by the arm, drag him to his feet, and over to the currently very scared girls in question… If only because Beetlejuice allowed her to. He would have gone over himself, even without her help. He was just too busy plotting their demise to care that she was the one dragging him along like a stuffed doll…

"Is this," She asked, her voice suddenly far weaker than all her previous demands had proven, "Mr. Beetleman?" Both stared dumbly, without a proper answer. "Is this _him_?" The roar was suddenly back in her voice as she asked again, despite being no louder than a whisper, and started to demand it a third time-

Only to be cut off as Beetlejuice ripped himself from her grasp, turned blazing green eyes on the two, who he definitely planned to get back at sometime very soon, and hissed under his voice, "Traitors!" The fact that Liv knew, was suddenly far out shadowed by the clear betrayal of his babes's trust, in his eyes… And he wanted to make _very _sure they knew that…

Strangely though, the two had very different reactions to his intended threat. Prudence whimpered, which was more or less what he wanted, and fell to her knees, which was also good. Bertha though, just continued to stare, like suddenly, _so _much made sense… Or maybe, like now, nothing did at all. But mostly like she was more fascinated than afraid. Apparently Lyds had rubbed off on the girl a little.

"I-is Mr. Beetleman some kind of… magician?" Prudence asked, eyes, even behind her large framed glasses, bigger than an owl's. "O-or… He's not a demon, is he?" It amused him a little, though he didn't show it, that this was the immediate assumption the girl jumped to "I-I was studying pagan mythologies in class… Y-you should never summon-"

"He's a _ghost_!" Bertha exclaimed suddenly, breaking into a huge grin, as if this were just the best thing ever. It set even the poltergeist back a little, how this didn't seem to shake her in the least… In fact, she seemed to love the idea. "I bet you he is! Man, this is the coolest thing ever! No wonder Lydia is friends with him!" Beetlejuice shot her a short, calculating little glance. That was an odd reaction, in his book. But then he smiled abruptly, _very _not-nicely, and proceeded to turn all his attention on Prudence. He _had_ his squealer…

Prudence fainted. He made a little, satisfied sound in his throat. That was a start, anyway.

While Bertha seemed torn between fussing over her friend, and admiring his ghost-ness some more, Beetlejuice pulled himself up to his fullest height, brushed his coat off with exaggerated care, and flashed his most foul grin in Olivia's general direction.

"Okay," He agreed sleazily, shrugging in something like indifferent surrender, "You caught me, Liv. But I told you, didn't I…" He pointed at her with a smug little smirk, "That I was gonna go after her, if you didn't pay up our little debt?" As if that really had anything to do with it… "Come on, did you really think I'd just give up that easy?"

For a long moment, Olivia just stared at him, suddenly face to face with her childhood trauma come to life, and no longer nearly as confident of her actions, as she'd been when she'd summoned him. "Where, is my daughter?" She asked softly, afraid for one terrifying moment that now that she'd revealed his secret, she was just never going to see the girl again.

"Lyds?" One eyebrow arched, just a little, and he paused to look around, as if surprised she wasn't already there with him. Then he realized what must have happened, and cursed softly. "Damnit, must've left her back in the neitherworld…" _Must've spat my name out like that shit her old lady used to cook, for me not to grab Lyds in time. Bitch._

"The _what_?" Her mother squeaked, eyes bulging at the idea he seemed to be suggesting. She didn't know what the neitherworld was… But it certainly didn't sound like it was part of this world. Where was her _daughter_?

"Neitherworld." He flicked his fingers dismissively, like this was really the least important thing he had to deal with at the moment, more annoyed with himself for not acting more quickly. "One of the lands of the dead. Neither here nor there. You know, the place where all us riffraff end up." He added, a little toothily, "I gotta tell you, Lyds loves the place a lot more than I do… Kid almost makes it fun, being dead!"

Silence answered him, as Olivia, apparently in shock now, just stared at him, as if quite possibly, she hadn't heard a word of that explanation. It surprised him a little. Certainly he'd expected more of a response than that… He'd been waiting for this little outburst for years! Only a matter of time, after all… So when she continued to just stand there, stunned into inaction, he blinked, snapped his fingers at her, and waited for something, anything.

Meanwhile, he was starting to get a little worried about his girl… She'd never been alone in the neitherworld before, as far as he knew. Either him or that prince idiot were always someplace close by. And nasty things could happen to a breather there… Damn it, and the Abusement Park too.

"I'm going to kill you." Olivia suddenly decided, before he could voice his concern, and ask her to send him back, her features suddenly utterly calm. Sort of a crazy calm, if he was any judge. Like she'd just given up on any sense of sanity, in order to deal with the current situation.

Beetlejuice looked at her in puzzlement at the threat… The broad did realize he was already dead, right? He was pretty sure they'd been over that little detail before. But instead of actually doing anything, either going crazy and wailing on him, or throwing shit, both of which he more of less expected, she turned, and walked around the side of the house without another word, leaving him, Bertha, and the unconscious Prudence, alone.

Pretty much to kill time, until Liv decided on a direction of attack, he glanced at the tall girl with a questioning purse to his lips. If she hadn't ratted on him after all, he had nothing against the kid… Even if she was kind of a pain in the ass. Maybe she was worth acknowledging, while he waited for hell to descend.

"You know Lyds don't actually take after her moms worth shit, right?" He prompted, as by the way as if this were just the sort of situation normal people went through on an everyday basis, and not really dwelling on her utterly 'out-of-place' expression. "No matter what anyone says. I mean…" He guffawed softly here, "Clearly the broad's crazy…" And he was just turning to look back in that direction, to see if Olivia was finally ready to make good on her threat, when she reappeared into sight, hefting…

An axe. Oh shit. He winced a little, backing up. Damn, _that _could actually hurt him… "Now Liv, let's be reasonable about this…" He urged, a half-assed little grin twisting his mouth. "We don't have to go all crazy here-" _Shit, wrong word to use-_ "It's not _that _big of a deal… I'm sure we can talk about this like reasonable-"

_Damn!_ She swung the axe at him, surprisingly well, and he ducked, cursing, and taking a step back. He couldn't do a damn thing to the bitch of course, that being his girl's _mother_. Wonderful. Somewhere off to the side, as he retreated again and again under her attacks, he heard Bertha protesting that she was going to kill him. He smirked, just a little, at the idea of implied death again. He was _not_ that easy to kill… Not that he particularly enjoyed pain. But it was still kind of funny, that either one of them thought _Liv_ could kill him…

This humor was quickly doused by Olivia's oddly familiar response of, "Don't be silly dear, he's already dead. He won't feel a thing."

"Uh, beg to differ here…" He began, pausing to dodge again, in such a way this time, that the axe head ended up firmly in the trunk of the oak, unable to stop its momentum. Pretending he'd planned that, Beetlejuice sighed, dusted off his sleeves, and leaned against the saving tree, doing his best to look reasonable. "Look… Liv. Ain't either one of us going to be rid of the other anytime soon… So I say we strike up a truce." He gave her his best grin. "How about it, doll?"

Olivia looked at him like he was mad, then began tugging at the axe again, clearly determined to get it free, and finish up where she'd left off. "No dice, huh?" He sighed. But he'd had to try, right? "Well look, will you at least send me back? That ain't exactly a good place for me to be leaving my babes alone…" She froze at her being called 'his babes,' and looked up at him with an expression he couldn't read. Then, with one savage tug, she pulled the axe free, clearly too out of it to realize he was offering to bring her daughter _back_. "Aw hell…" Beetlejuice muttered.

Suddenly there it was again, the sense of a vortex, of reality being bent, or there suddenly being something where there hadn't been before. Everyone present- everyone present and still conscious, that was- turned in that direction to see Lydia standing there, draped in what looked like a huge red blanket, taking in the scene a lot more quickly than her friend had. Her eyes went dull. "Oh shit." She muttered softly. "Mom's gonna kill us."

"Just him, dear." Olivia corrected, barely set off her step, before she took another swing. This time, Beetlejuice didn't dodge quickly enough, didn't even have a chance to try really, and a flare of pain erupted from wrist to elbow, making him roar in surprise, as much as anything, and look down to see how bad the damage was… The limb, from just below the elbow down, was now lying on the grass, fingers twitching.

Frustration swallowed him, and he turned back to the woman, currently readying for another swing, with just a glint of feral anger in his gaze. "Enough of this…" He muttered, flicking the fingers of the hand he still had, and not bothering to dodge as she hit him solidly, soundly in the head, with-

A bouquet of dead flowers. The madwoman paused, looking utterly baffled at the new, decidedly different 'weapon' now in her grasp, clearly not sure how it'd gotten there. Anything like sense had apparently long since been left behind. The woman had clearly gone off her rocker.

More annoyed than anything- okay, and in a lot of pain as well- Beetlejuice bent down to retrieve the severed limb, and reattached it with a wince, twisting the severed ends of the bone unpleasantly back into place. "Damn it, Lyds… The woman's lost her fucking mind!" He muttered, honestly believing it. "She's lucky I don't- Hey! What the hell?" Because Olivia was now, it seemed, determined to use her new weapon to the best of her abilities, and was beating him determinedly over the head with it, dried petals flying everywhere. "Lyds!" He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "A little help here?"

Lydia, having been standing there more or less stunned by Beetlejuice's temporary loss of limb, blinked, and came to herself with something of a start, an angry look even glinting in the depths of her strong dark eyes. "Mom, will you just hold on a minute-?" She began, determinedly crossing the distance between herself and the deranged woman… Only to be turned on next, mercilessly pummeled by the dead foliage. "Mom, hey, stop-!" She protested, all the while Beetlejuice cackled in the background like an idiot, glad to no longer be the focus of her attacks. "Damnit-!"

_Crack_! Olivia had, for reasons known only to her, abandoned her flower attack, and struck Lydia firmly across the face with the back of her hand, making the girl stagger, and stare at her in open-mouthed surprise. Her mother had never _hit _her before… Then, before she could form enough coherent thought to protest the action, she was suddenly aware of her mother getting hit in turn with, _something_, and flying through the air, colliding rather solidly with the ground.

She blinked, and looked back at the poltergeist, who no longer looked the faintest trace amused. His eyes burned like eerie green coals in their sockets, his lip curled with contempt as he glared at the woman, currently looking up at the sky, dazed, and clearly unsure how she'd ended up on the ground. "Take off my arm, _fine_," He growled, electricity prickling with lightning intensity through the air, "But don't you lay a goddamn _hand _on that girl, you hear me?"

Still furious, he glared at her a breath longer, though the woman made no attempt to get back up. Finally satisfied that he'd made his point, he turned belatedly, and looked at Lydia with a frown. "You okay, babes?" He muttered under his breath, trying not to show how concerned he was.

"S-she cut off your arm." Lydia murmured, still clearly back on that little nothing, while he'd more than moved on. He grinned, lifting his arm, flexing it… And hissing in pain as he underestimated how much it still fucking _hurt_.

Lydia was at his side in an instant, all worries, touching the tender skin with feather-light caresses. "And she ruined your suit…" She added, as a sort of little, concerned afterthought, which currently seemed more than a little comical, all things considered. She was worried about the damn suit? Beetlejuice just laughed, ran his fingers through her hair carelessly, and started to lean in to drop a kiss on her head-

"Um, guys?" The poltergeist blinked, having momentarily forgotten they weren't there alone, then turned his eyes with what could only be called marginal tolerance towards the only one of Lydia's living friends he _wasn't_ currently plotting revenge on. As far as he was concerned, she was still pushing it. The girl was currently bent over Olivia now, chewing her lip between her teeth, and looking worried. "I think she passed out, Mr. Beetleman." A pause then, almost as an afterthought, "Are you two okay?"

Lydia pinched the little place between her eyes, and smiled wanly. "Hell if I know, Bertha…" She admitted softly. A pause, then, "God damn it, what do we do now, Beej?

The girl was looking to him for the answers, and _fuck him_, he didn't have them. He sighed, looking around the scene of so much mind-blowing devastation, gave a small flick of his tongue across his upper lip, and finally turned to the house itself, only to see Adam and Babs standing horrified, useless, in the doorway, simply unable to come any further. Apparently, neither one of them thinking to use his name… Or had they tried? To be honest, he hadn't noticed. He wasn't sure if it would even work, when he was out of range of their ghostly powers…

"Hey yuppies!" He yelled, glad to be back to dealing with things on his own terms now, "You want some company, or should we leave the fucking psycho-mom out here, 'till she wakes up?"

Lydia though, was far more direct than even the poltergeist thought to be… She lifted her head, smiled at her two longtime friends, and informed them matter-of-factly, "We're having Beej over for a while, until we straighten this out. And if you send him away, I swear to god that I'll just call him right back, and then you'll have to deal with him being pissed about it. Any problem with that?"

Adam opened his mouth to answer, but Barbara stopped him, laying a light hand on his arm, and shooting him a glance of concern. Lydia seemed to take that as a no, turning back to her friends, apparently without any further dwelling on strangeity. "Okay people," She noted brightly, as if this were how she'd been planning to spend her day all along, "Let's bring them in!"

----------------


	3. Enough!

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Must... resist... temptation... to worry...

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The discomfort hanging in the air was palpable. More or less literally. Lydia was pretty sure she could have reached out and touched it, if she had a mind to… Prudence was awake now, despite Lydia's mother still being sprawled across the couch motionlessly… And having regained consciousness, with the conclusion that it wasn't a dream, did not seem to be doing wonders for her state of mind. She just stared, tight-lipped, and a little green, as the group of teacups, held by someone she couldn't see, spun through the air in their direction. Clearly half wishing she was still passed out.

For Bertha however, the realization of what Beetlejuice was, seemed to have opened a whole new world to her eyes, because she kept glancing forth between him, Adam, and Barb, with an absolutely delighted grin crossing her face… Which even Lydia knew was a trifle out of place at the moment. "So you're all ghosts?" She said again, for the third time, still clearly as excited as she had been upon first realizing it. "That is _so_ cool!"

By this point, even the ever-patient Adam was pointedly ignoring her, pulling his glasses off from time to time to clean, as he'd been doing for the past ten, otherwise silent minutes. This all changed of course, when Barbara offered a cup of tea, rather generously she thought, to the grimy poltergeist, currently pulling on a faded bottle of some unidentifiable liquor.

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes up to the woman with a sneer. "Do I look like I want any _fucking_ tea?" He demanded, more or less incredulously. "Do I look like the kind of guy who even fucking _drinks_ tea?"

"You love tea," Lydia murmured, eyes lidded, having more or less taken possession of the love seat in its entirety, if only because Beetlejuice had claimed her father's chair, "Stop being an asshole to Barb."

He turned his gaze to her now, bemused, or maybe doing his best not to laugh his ass off at the idea of being _nice_ to the woman who'd done her best to feed him to a goddamn sandworm. "Yeah? What're you gonna do if I don't, babes?"

"I'll kick you." She promised him softly, utterly unfazed by the fact that she was making this threat, while halfway across the room from him. He just sneered, leaned back, and took another swig from his bottle, muttering under his breath how he'd like to see her try. This ultimatum given, Lydia turned back to her godparents with an unhappy eye. For the life of her, she just didn't know how to approach this. All she could hope for by this point, was somehow making the Maitlands understand, so they could in turn convince her mother, when she woke up… Her father was probably a lost cause.

Instead, she picked at the fading pattern on her poncho, eyes a little downcast. More than anything, this was what pissed Beetlejuice off, as he watched the tension in the room build. Like she fucking regretted everything they'd done, instead of just regretting getting caught. It was Adam who interrupted this, unwelcomely, by asking quietly, "Lydia… Tell me that you and he haven't…?"

Beetlejuice himself took the opportunity to answer this one. "What do you fucking think, Sherlock?" He sneered, enjoying the brief look of utter horror that spread across the Maitland broad's face, before Lydia, inevitably, called his bluff.

"Not for lack of trying on his part." She denied, lips actually curved just a little in amusement. It made him feel damn good to see that his Lyds wasn't put entirely off her game…

He gave a stage sigh, capping his drink, looking across to the least hostile of the current group, Bertha, and noting to her, in a confiding way, "Seriously, the one chick in the living world that can say no to _this_," He gestured to himself with an extravagant sweep, and an utterly misplaced look of confidence, "And she would have to be Olivia's kid. Am I right, doll?" To this, Bertha actually had the audacity to giggle, making him grin more. "See?" He glanced in Lydia's general direction. "_She _gets it! Now-"

"How long?" Barbara suddenly interrupted, still not having taken a seat, her gaze currently boring into Lydia's features, like she might have to find the truth there, rather than in her goddaughter's answer. "How _long,_ Lydia?"

Something in the goth girl firmed, finally growing a little defensive. As such, she fell right back into her patented, _I don't care that I'm being a spoiled brat_ mode, and countered sweetly, "Since I've known him? Or since he's been trying to get into my panties?" Even Beetlejuice stared at her, a little surprised by her audacity at that one, before he dissolved into little, amused cackles… An amusement Barbara clearly did not share.

"Both." She answered, just a little pained.

Lydia shrugged, carelessly, deliberately no longer caring how much damage she was doing. "Since I was twelve, for the first… Since almost a year ago, for the second."

"Ah-ha!" He crooked a finger at her, smirking. "Then you admit it's been a year, babes!" He couldn't let this opportunity slip past him…

This seemed to catch Lydia off guard for a moment, and she completely forgot her bitchy efforts at defense, just staring at him blankly. Clearly, she wasn't sure how to reply… Then seemed suddenly embarrassed, looking vulnerable in a way she'd only had since admitting she had a thing for him, and muttered, under her breath, "I said _almost_ a year." When Beetlejuice just cackled at this, leaving everyone else to wonder what the joke was, her blush grew stronger, and she growled, now clearly growing frustrated, "I am _so _not talking about your efforts to get me in bed, with my parents standing right there!"

"Hell, getting you in _bed _hasn't been the problem, as I recall it," He noted, a little nonchalantly, well aware he was pushing her just a little too far, "And as for those chumps," He waved his hand randomly in their direction, and both jumped a little, clearly having felt the results of his juice before, "Well shit, we wouldn't have to talk about _anything _in front of them, if you'd let me send them to goddamn _sandworm _land!"

"Don't fucking _yell _at me!" Lydia shouted right back, setting him back a little. Okay, maybe he had been getting a bit loud, but that wasn't really yelling…

"That's enough, out of both of you!" Adam interrupted, looking angrier than Lydia had ever seen the normally patient ghost. Even Beetlejuice fell silent, though likely more from an amused curiosity of what was coming next, than any real respect for the other man's supposed authority.

Having sent the room into silence, he got to his feet slowly, considering first his goddaughter, than her longtime secret, each in turn. The poltergeist, nothing less than cocky, sneering, his head lolled to the side in an utterly unimpressed way. Turning his attention from him for the moment, well aware he wasn't going to make any progress there, he addressed Lydia instead.

"You have been _lying_ to us, young lady." He reminded her, with a forced sense of calm. "For _years_. Do you realize how that makes Barbara and I feel?"

Lydia licked her lips, casting a glance at her still knocked out mother, as if wondering if the woman was even counted as part of the equation anymore, before Adam cut in again, just marginally more angry. "Yes, and your mother too! And your _father_, when he finds out! And don't start telling me that it wasn't a lie," He went on, when she clearly started to say just this, "That it was just a _secret_… Because in this case, you know fully well that it means exactly the same thing!"

A pause, a frustrated look, and then his fingers, running through his hair in exasperation, eyes cast briefly back to his wife, before returning to the goth girl who'd caused so much trouble. "Do you have _anything _to say for yourself, young lady?"

Of course, it was a trick question, in its own right… There was nothing she could say at this point, that would alleviate even a fraction of the guilt that both the Maitlands felt she possessed by now. Still, she bit her thumb briefly, sighed, and rolled her eyes up to them, not quite apologetically, as she answered softly with, "I knew you wouldn't let me be around him, if I told you. What was I supposed to do?"

"Trust our judgment, and not be around him!" Barbara exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "He's nothing but trouble, Lydia… He's dangerous, perverted, dirty…"

"_Fun_." Lydia whispered, putting the emphasis on this one, single word, as if it could explain away all her supposed sins. "He's fun, Barb. And he's my friend. And he looks out for me, too." Her little hands balled into fists, she shook her head, clearly as frustrated as any of them there, because she just didn't have any of them on her side…

But of course, she did. "Look, Adam… Babs." He couldn't believe he was doing this, he still wasn't the sort to play the hero, but for Lyds… He held out his hands helplessly, offering them a positively sleazy grin, as he explained, "The kid couldn't help it. She stopped having any say in our little deal a long time ago." When the two looked at him, clearly ready to believe his guilt over their precious Lydia's, he added, with a dismissive gesture towards the girl, "I put a geis in her. The kid couldn't get rid of me if she wanted to."

From the curl of Lydia's lips, she knew damn well what he was doing… But didn't protest, yet. Curious, like him, of just where this desperate little tactic would lead them. "Geis," Adam echoed at last, pronouncing the word completely wrong, like it just didn't belong on his tongue, "What are you talking about? What's a geis?" And from the look on his face, he was warning that he damn well better like the answer…

Beetlejuice blinked, looked at him incredulously, and guffawed in thin humor. Idiots. "You mean to tell me," He drawled, after a moment of building the appropriate suspense, "That you still ain't read through that damn handbook yet?" He twisted his wrist, put on his best serious face, and informed all present, matter-of-factly, "A geis. A binding contract, between two consenting persons, sealed by a willing yielding of a portion of one or both person's life energies… _Souls_… Un-fucking-breakable." He added, with no attempt to veil his challenge, "You starting to get it now?

"Oh, Adam…" Barbara whispered, moving to her husband's side for support, "He took part of Lydia's life energy… Her soul! That's how he got out!"

The poltergeist stared at her, briefly put off his step, wondering if she was really that dumb. It was _his_ life energy that had been given… Well, what passed for it in the dead, anyway. _His _spark of juice that dwelled in that girl's chest, sealing their binding. How the hell did the broad think he could have taken _hers_?

"You really are as dumb as you look." He muttered under his breath, dropping his weight back in the chair a little more, and lidding his eyes in contempt. "Goddamnit babes, how the hell do you put up with these yuppies? Anyhow…" He shot a glance, no less than disgusted, at the still sleeping Olivia, adding, "It's what I should have fucking done to her… But hey, no complaints." A sickening grin crept across his face, somewhat out of the blue, all the more disturbing because it was genuine. "Really, I mean it. 'Cause I gotta tell you, Lyds over there is a hell of a lot more-"

"Don't talk about my daughter that way!" Barbara cried, clearly outraged by whatever it was he hadn't yet said about the girl. Her eyes tearing, her hands clenched furiously…

Beetlejuice paused, giving her a short 'are-you-serious' look, before finishing nonchalantly, and without missing a beat, "A hell of a lot more _fun_. Come on," He threw his hands up, like he was the innocent party in all this, "What did you think I was gonna say? Goddamn patsies…" He starting patting his pockets, looking for his cigarettes, only to come up with a handful of hard candies he didn't remember carrying. His eyebrows flew up in mild surprise. "Well, what the hell?"

"Oh, those are mine." Lydia assured him calmly, standing, snagging one from his hand, and leaning against the wall in lieu of her seat, as she popped it into her mouth. Adam and Barbara watched the exchange, without any sign of comprehension. "Remember? You were carrying them for me, when my arms were full of that bag of plasterboard pieces I had to pick up for Adam. You were carrying the newspaper bundle… I must've forgotten them."

Adam, having been mentioned in the exchange, opened his mouth, let it hang that way for a moment, promptly closed it, shook his head, and turned his back on the two, with a sense of just not being able to process any more just then. Lydia, minx that she was, didn't miss it, and seemed to be avoiding her gaze in an effort not to break out laughing.

"He was running errands with her…" Barbara murmured, more to herself, as if this was simply the pinnacle of what just could not be possibly happening to her family just then. "Adam, he was running _errands_ with her…" As if somehow, her husband could make more sense of this than she could.

Beetlejuice chuckled, considered searching his pockets again, and instead popped one of Lydia's hot candies into his mouth. He made a little bit of a production of it, holding it between his lips, and then rolling it around noisily between his teeth, as he grinned at her. Lydia smirked right back. "You _are_ perverted." She informed him, a little fondly.

Hearing this, Adam finally turned back around, considered the exchange between the two, and asked, in a bit of a rasp, "How could you do it? How could you geis a _little girl_?"

More than a little sick of being made out to be the villain in all this, even if it was a role he should be used to, this time Beetlejuice didn't even spare him a glance. "Ask her," He grunted, still eyeing the goth girl without bothering to mask his impatience, "It was Lyds's idea."

"That is _not_ how I remember it…" She protested, but before she could get any further with this, Beetlejuice hissed and winced, as in shifting his weight, he put too much pressure on his recently reattached limb. Lydia's eyes instantly went soft and worried, forgetting her arguments, and was at his side in an instant, laying her hand in gentle concern over his arm. "Does it still hurt?" She murmured, trying, and failing, to find the wound.

"I had my fucking arm chopped off, babes." He muttered, more touched by her concern than he let on. "It's gonna hurt for a while." This being said though, he caught her hand with his good one, adding, gruffly, "How 'bout you? That bitch hurt you?"

"Oh…" Ignoring the fact for a moment that he'd just called her mother a bitch, again, Lydia touched her cheek lightly There'd probably be a bruise there, later… But he didn't need to know that now. "Um, no. It's fine." They just stared at each other for a moment after this, his hand over hers, her hand touching his arm. And the Maitlands stared, unable to come up with a proper response, as it was suddenly clear that the two really did give a damn about each other. More than _they_ liked.

"Um, not to interrupt anyone," Bertha suddenly prompted, reminding everyone there that this was no longer just a family meeting by this point, "But Mrs. Deetz is still unconscious. Should, we call a doctor, or something?"

"The damn doctor can wait." A new, decidedly familiar voice, cut through the attention of everyone there. Each responded in their own way… Adam and Barbara looked relieved, Bertha and Prudence looked confused, Lydia looked instantly wary, and Beetlejuice rolled his eyes, resigned to still more shit.

"You two have really done it this time, haven't you?" Juno regarded them, dead and actually looking it, much to the surprise of the two inexperienced human girls… Though again, it was Bertha who seemed to actually see her, considering her expression. "Of course, I'm blaming _you_, Beetle…" Her cold eyes flickered over to the poltergeist, almost pityingly, completely countering her words. "But regardless, this issue has finally come to a head, and all we can do now, is deal with the consequences."

It seemed to take about this long, for the fact that she wasn't the least bit surprised about any of this, to really sink in with Adam. "Wait…" He stood slowly, his expression that of a man ready to be angry, just as soon as he was certain he had the right to be, "Are you telling us… You _knew _about all this?"

"Of course I fucking knew about this. From day _one_." Juno agreed flatly, without so much as batting an eye. "And I'm really disappointed in the two of you, that you didn't figure it out sooner yourselves. Not surprised, mind you, but certainly disappointed. I mean, what the hell does it take? Did he have to show up at your front door dressed in formal wear, and ask for your goddamn blessing?"

Lydia burst out laughing at the mental image this brought her, and Beetlejuice himself couldn't help the chuckle this summoned too, not that he would have bothered to try anyway. But as if he'd ask those two chumps permission for anything… As if he'd ask _anyone_ permission for anything!

Not giving Adam a chance to object, or come up with any more worthwhile questions, she turned back to the Maitlands with a tight frown pursing her lips, her arms halfway crossed, as if she really didn't want to be having this discussion any more than they did. "Before you ask… Yes, the girl is geised. Yes, it's a binding goddamn contract. There isn't shit you can do about it, so I suggest you start getting used to having _him_," A vague gesture in the poltergeist's direction, "As your permanent houseguest."

A pause, here, as her fingers flew to her lips, and a slow, deep drag of smoke was consumed. Barbara, apparently coming to the conclusion that she was finished, asked desperately, "But isn't there anything we can do…?"

Juno grimaced, looking nothing so much as fed up. "Short of offering him something else he wants more, no." She denied flatly. "He's the only one of them that can break the contract, and I'm warning you right now, he won't do it. He's grown too damn fond of the girl. Likes keeping her in his pocket." When both Lydia and Beetlejuice made to protest at this, she snapped her gaze back to them with a little hiss. "Shut up! I'm getting to you."

Despite having said this, she took a long pause, following this, and regarded the two living girls, not formerly acquainted with the dead. Though her gaze passed over Prudence with a look of dismissal, it lingered on Bertha for a breath more, taking in the sight of the girl, now currently gawking at her unreservedly. "And I see you've managed to dredge up even more paperwork for me, Beetle… More breathers! Aware of the presence of the dead!" She threw her hands up, as if this were just the final straw. "I'll be sorting through this for days!"

Then, without missing a beat, she spun back on all of them, eyes narrowed. "You're lucky I was already on my way here," She muttered, under her breath, "So I could be around to clean up this mess you've made. But I don't have time now," She flicked her cigarette hand, dismissing this, "I'm on my way to an appointment. I'll meet all of Lydia Deetz's legal guardians together at three in the afternoon, tomorrow… And yes, as twisted as it is, that does include you, Beetle!" The ghost with the most's eyebrows flew up, just a little, in surprise. He'd certainly never considered himself her guardian before…

"Now Lydia," Juno's voice dropped suddenly, significantly, as if ready just that fast to leave her former frustrations behind her, and move on to whatever had really brought her, "You're the one I came to see." Despite the calmness of her tone, her features, if anything, looked more stressed than before. "I have an invitation for you, to meet with Prince Vince at the Royal Gardens tomorrow. Same time as their appointment."

She reached in her pocket, pulled out a perfect white envelope, and passed it to the girl, while Beetlejuice watched with a small frown. "But make no mistake," She warned softly, "Despite the friendship you may have with that young man, an invitation from a Royal is never any less than an official summoning, for anyone from the neitherworld… And at the moment, that includes you. I suggest you not keep him waiting."

Lydia turned the envelope over in her hand, only gradually aware of Barbara staring at her, and Adam pointedly looking at the slip of paper in her hand. A final, inappropriate surge of humor, swelled in her chest. "You remember Vincent, don't you?" She prompted, unable to resist a small smile. "Well, he's actually _Prince _Vincent." Another pause, then, by way of explanation, just in case they still didn't understand, "Prince of the Neitherworld?"

At this, no one seemed able to summon a proper answer. No one but Bertha, who just grinned, starry-eyed, and whispered, much to the consternation of everyone else present, "He's really a prince? That is so _cool_…"

----------------

It had been the better part of two hours since the girls had been sent home, cursorily, with no further explanation, and a promise extracted to keep their mouths shut. Two hours since her mother had finally awoken, and since her father had entered the equation… And still the chaos from the other room continued, not seeming likely to abate anytime soon. Lydia, having had more than her share of the drama, and apparently just being in the way of deciding her own punishment, had retreated to the kitchen some time before. To bake cookies.

The cause of all the trouble, in her parents' minds anyway, lounged not ten feet from her, despite his having been banished some time before, his muddy boots up on their kitchen table, flipping through a deck of cards, and eating said cookies. He tried to appear disinterested in what was going on in the other room… But Lydia was sure that, like herself, he was hanging onto every word. Well, every word he could make sense of. They were talking over each other so much though, they might as well have been speaking in tongues.

Lydia poked at her newest batch of cookies, a peanut butter and peppermint candy concoction she'd been inspired to try on the spur of the moment, then turned, and while Beetlejuice also pretended to pay no attention to this, scraped the pile of semi-burned sweets onto the platter in front of him. She actually could bake fairly well, when her mind was actually working… Only after he'd claimed yet another one of the cookies, god only knew why he was still eating them, did he shoot her a little leer, wink, and note, "Thanks, sugar-buns. You're the best."

Unable to resist a smile at his utterly irreverent attitude, Lydia responded by patting him on the head, like a dog, and murmuring, "Good boy. Now you sit there, and enjoy your treats."

Beetlejuice just snickered, and reached out, patting her ass lightly as she walked away, regardless of the fact that her parents were just a room away. "Woof!" He agreed, licking his lips, before turning back to the 'treats' in question.

"God damn it…" She sighed, unable to come up with a more annoyed response than this, as she started putting her baking supplies away. If only because she'd finally run out of flour. She now had enough cookies to last her family a week, maybe more… Or would have had, if her best friend hadn't already eaten half of them. "I don't know who's driving me crazier, you or them." A particularly large outburst, more or less unintelligible, and clearly from her mother, made her pause, and reconsider this. "On the other hand…"

"They're fucking tight-assed prudes," Beetlejuice agreed under his breath, licking his fingers, drawing a card from the deck, and replacing it, with a purpose only he could fathom, "Every one of them needs a good lay, they'll feel much better."

"That's your answer to everything." Lydia pointed out, wiping the last little bit of flour off the counter, and then standing there at something of a loss. Without anything to keep her hands busy, it was much harder to pretend her life wasn't being decided for her, by people who were currently very pissed off at the girl. _Attempted_, to be decided, anyway. No sooner had they banished Beetlejuice after all, and sent her to the kitchen while they talked, then the poltergeist demanded to be brought right back, leering at her confidently from the toaster. And well, she'd reflected with a smile, she _was_ geised… Too bad for them that they'd never exactly demanded the details of that little bargain.

"Damn straight it is!" He agreed, suddenly flinging the whole deck of cards across the room, to scatter more or less randomly, as he fixed her with a suggestive little leer. "What d'ya say, babes? We're in deep shit anyway… Let's give them a reason to pop outta their skins!" He slapped the kitchen table in front of him, in clear suggestion. "Right here, right now, you and me!"

Lydia shook her head, not bothering to conceal her amusement. "And yet somehow, having my fate hanging precariously in the balance in the next room, does not seem to be the secret to making me all soft and willing." She mused, wiping her hands off on her skirt, and coming to a decision of what to do next. "I know, I'll make an anti-pesto…"

"Italian's always good." He agreed, clearly pouting a little at having his perfectly reasonable suggestion get shot down so fast. "Seriously babes, what _does _put you in the mood? Because I'm up for pretty much anything by this point… I mean, I don't judge, you get me? Role-playing, bondage… We do still have that little deal we made a while ago…"

Lydia paused, considering him quizzically, then suddenly did her best not to laugh, as she remembered what he was talking about. "And I still stand by that," She agreed with a wide grin, suddenly just unable to take this whole ridiculous situation seriously, "If I ever want to tie anyone up, and have my wicked way with them, I'll be sure it's you." Damn, what was the worst they could do, anyway? _Ground_ her? They couldn't keep Beetlejuice away from her even if they did, and just as soon as she was a free woman, she'd be going straight back to the neitherworld… It was all pretty futile, really.

What exactly had she been so afraid of?

Another bellow, tearing through their conversation at this point, pretty much drew both of their attentions, as none other than her mother yelled suddenly, "Get out of my way! She's _my_ daughter, and I want to talk to _her_!"

And sternly, in a tone she hadn't her from her father in a good long time, "Not when you're like this, Liv. She's my daughter too, and I'm not letting you put your hands on her again!" His voice dropped, just marginally, "You're not thinking clearly right now… You need to calm down before you go in there."

"Oh, I'm calm!" Olivia growled, clearly with a completely different definition of just what the word meant. "If I were any calmer, I'd be dead… Now get out of my way!" And with this, she pushed bodily past him, appearing larger than life in the doorway…

Only to falter, completely set off her step, at the sight of the poltergeist sitting at her table, enjoying a snack. "Hey, Liv." Beetlejuice greeted her toothily, giving a dismissive little wave. "Your kid's making pasta. You want some?" Clearly he was over his anger at her earlier violence towards the girl… Or at least, this was the face he was putting on at the moment. "If it's anything like her macaroni salad, it'll be damn good… You really shouldn't miss out."

Edmond, having appeared in the doorway behind her, his hand still on his wife's arm in an attempt to stop her from causing bodily harm to their daughter, stared at the scene before him with something of a flat expression. Lydia met that gaze, briefly, before turning back to where she was washing the large basil leaves, as if nothing at all odd had just occurred.

And this something like a silence was broken, only after what seemed like several minutes, but was probably less than one, by Olivia rasping, "What is _he_ doing here? We sent him away, and _told _you not to call him again!" But it was clear that she was shaken, her former bravery before the poltergeist vanished, with her marginal return to sanity. "How did he get back here?"

"He told me to call him back." Lydia answered calmly, as if what she'd just said wasn't in direction opposition to what her parents had demanded. "So I did."

"I hardly think his instructions outweigh your mother's and mine…" Edmond argued stonily-

Only to be interrupted by the ghost with the most, who noted, with nothing less than a pleasant little smile, "See now Chuck, here's the thing… Actually, they _do_." He flicked his hand, and all the cards he'd discarded moments ago, came flying back to him, to be shuffled, and tucked neatly in his pocket, before he continued.

First though, he swung his legs down, folded his hands on the table, and leaned over them, explaining, "See, your daughter and me? We've got a binding contract. Key word here, _binding_. I tell her I want out, she's gotta let me out. No loopholes for parental disapproval." He reached for another cookie, as if that was just that, adding with a self-satisfied little sneer, "And since you _don't_ have a binding contract… That means I definitely fucking outweigh you."

Lydia had listened to this exchange without a word, deliberately not turning, so her parents wouldn't see how much she was enjoying this talking down… But agreed, now, almost nonchalantly, "What he said," before she put the basil leaves on the cutting board, drew out a knife, and began to chop them into more manageable pieces. Then she paused, muttering under her breath, "Damn it, I forgot to start the noodles," and left them there to search the cupboards.

It seemed at first she was done talking, but then added abruptly, without looking back, "And even if you did have a contract," By way of an additional two cents, just a little extra rub in their wounds, "His was first."

Beetlejuice shot her a pleased glance. The girl was taking this a lot better than he'd expected, considering how long she'd tried to avoid it… And interestingly enough, when it came to choosing sides, was willing to throw her weight in with _his _sorry ass, rather than her family. Who were after all, just trying to look out for her best interests… Rather shittily, in his opinion. After all, what was better for his babes, than him?

Okay, so maybe he wasn't actually _that_ delusional… The girl was good for him, sure. Who knew about the other way around? But he sure as hell wasn't about to back off now, just because they'd asked nicely. Which of course, they hadn't anyway. No one ever did.

Licking the sticky crumbs off his fingers, he seemed more or less content to leave it there, but then Edmond starting in, saying his name, and he just _had_ to interrupt. "Hey, hold on now…" He shot the man a scolding look, "Haven't you been listening? You send me away, I have her bring me back. We can keep doing this all day."

"But do you really want to be ripped back and forth between worlds all day?" The man countered, his eyes, eerily like his daughter's, peering through the poltergeist to the quick. "I'm guessing you'll give out before I do."

Beetlejuice sat back a little, one of his fingers still in his mouth, then nodded, as if this were perfectly reasonable. "Sure, sure, I totally understand you, Chuck." He agreed, with something of an 'I-know-something-you-don't' look, which was after all, one of his favorite expressions, even when he didn't. "And hey, I totally believe you. So go on, send me away… I'll just wait until you're busy doing something else, _then _I'll have Lyds pop me back here. You know…" A sneer, "Give us a little more _quality _time."

It seemed that the man had no answer to this, though certainly not for his jaw lacking to work in short, furious little twitches, as he gazed back and forth, between the ghost and Lydia. Amazingly though, just when it seemed he was going to take two steps forward, and deck the poltergeist for all he was worth, he slowly started to relax, and the cold look in his eyes changed. This was what made Beetlejuice wary… Anger made people make stupid mistakes, making it easier to control them… But at the moment? Edmond's expression said he was starting to think this through, very, very clearly.

When he spoke again, it was turning to Lydia, as if Beetlejuice was simply no longer there. "I know you," He said softly, something in his voice enough like hers, to suggest that he did, "You wouldn't go into this without a way out. What is it?"

The ghost with the most sneered, not the least worried about _this_ particular loophole. Lydia though, as she finally turned to her father, looked just a little more wary. "If I ever get to the point where I absolutely hate him," She admitted slowly, softly, "Then the deal's off. But it's not going to happen, dad. It's _my_ way out, not yours."

Edmond just narrowed his eyes at his daughter, briefly, then wrote her off as a lost cause, turning his attention instead to… Beetlejuice? "Fine. Name your price." He demanded shortly, sliding one hand into his pocket. "I've got enough money saved up to buy off a politician, if I get it in my head to. I doubt _your_ price will go that high." The poltergeist stared at him, incredulously. The guy was trying to _buy_ Lyds back from him?

A slow, nasty grin, crossed Beetlejuice's features… But it faltered, just a little, at the brief look of panic in his babes's eyes. Shit, didn't she trust him? Casting her a disappointed glance, he waved the offer away without a second thought. "Sorry, Chuck. She's not for sale."

"Ten thousand dollars." Edmond answered, making the poltergeist's eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise. "I can write you a check right now, or if you want to wait an hour, I can give it to you in cash." He pulled out what was clearly his checkbook, flipping it open. "And let me warn you right now, if you decide not to take the money, I can have a priest in here in a matter of hours, that I can guarantee you will."

At this point, pretty much everyone stopped talking, and stared at the man in absolute dumbfounded. Barbara and Adam had entered the kitchen by now, so they too caught this threat to have the house exorcised. Before any of them could say a word though, and Lydia was at the top of the list of those ready to respond, the poltergeist got to his feet slowly, grinning, and adjusting his sleeves.

"Buddy," He said softly, gaze glinting like some lost fire of hell, "You're not the smart one in the family, are you? Come here…"

"Beej!" Lydia's voice snapped through whatever plotting her best friend already had in mind, and made him spin with an exasperated look in her direction.

"What?! Come on Lyds…!" He roared, somehow managing to look both slighted, and slightly insane. "You heard what he-!"

"I forbid you from killing my father." She frowned, stabbing the knife down in the cutting board, to emphasize her point. "And you!" She added, yanking it free again, and pointing it in her father's general direction. "You will _not_ threaten to send my best friends to the lost soul's room! Understood?" Then she stabbed it down again, this time so hard that it went clean through the wooden board, and nicked the counter.

"And you!" She added, spinning on her mother next, clearly not finished. "Stop being crazy, right now!" At this, Beetlejuice actually did do his best not to laugh, not that Lyds would ever appreciate it… "It's not like he's just suddenly shown up a couple hours ago! He's been around for years, and you're still _fine_!" Finally her gaze went to the Maitlands, who looked a bit surprised at their daughter actually raising her voice, which to their knowledge, was unheard of in the teen who usually used words instead of volume, to express her anger.

The stare lasted for over a minute, before she finally just shook her head, and growled. "I'm not even _starting _on you two." She muttered, her normal volume restored. "Or did you forget that the only reason you're not _already_ in the lost soul's room, is _because_ of him?"

Each of them having been addressed, while they were mute with astonishment at her suddenly taking charge like this, when _she'd_ been the one in trouble, she turned back to her cutting, and found herself frustratingly unable to extract the knife she'd embedded so deeply. "Well, damn it…" She sighed, her display of temper done, before she leaned against the cupboard, and shot them all an exasperated glance. "Look, you've got an appointment with Juno tomorrow. Fix it then. And _put _away the damn checkbook… It's not like he needs money for anything he can't steal anyway."

It was Barbara who followed this sudden outburst, with what at the moment, passed for the voice of reason. "And are we going to be able to fix this, Lydia?" She asked softly, clearly still hoping there was a way out of this mess. A way for things to go back to the way they were before…

Only of course, before, Beetlejuice had already been part of the equation. They just hadn't known about it. "No." Lydia denied without pause, grabbing the leaves she'd chopped already, and shoving them in the blender. "He's not going anywhere. You should probably get used to it." She went to the fridge, got out the rest of the necessary ingredients for her dinner, and stood, more than anything, just glad that everyone had finally shut up. Even Beetlejuice was wondering, with a bit of a smirk of course, just what exactly had possessed the girl…

When she turned back around, and saw them all still just standing there, Lydia frowned, considered them for a moment, and then simply turned back to her preparations. "Dinner will be done in about twenty minutes." She informed them, calm again.

"Until then… sit down and eat a cookie."

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	4. More Surprises All Around

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Okay. See, this is the part I'm supposed to apologize, for going two weeks without an update. But see, I can't. I mean, I'm sorry I left you waiting, sure, but I seriously needed a break. I did say that, before you get too mad. I just thought it would be between fics, not three chapters into a new one. That being said... I'm seriously falling out of my groove. I won't explain what that means right now, I just want you to enjoy the new chapter, and be assured, I have every intention of seeing this fic through, and none of leaving you hanging indefinitely.

Now, for some of you, the ending of this chapter may have been visible a mile away... I hope it's still enjoyable. Now if you'll excuse me... I think I'll sleep for as long as possible. :)

Oh, and arkynox posted a new fanpic for my work at deviantart. Not only that, Solarbaby614 made a great wallpaper and banner... But you should probably ask her about that. (solar, don't kill me, I just thought they were cool!)

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She woke surrounded by a familiar, cool bubble of air, tickling across her skin, a weight thrown across her back. A little, mischievous grin crossing her face, she started to roll over, to shove the poltergeist away, as she did pretty much every day now… Only to pause in something like bafflement to see an obviously female form currently draping her bed, long loose curls obscuring her face. She wondered briefly if Beetlejuice was pulling some kind of trick on her… Sneaking a girl into bed with her, to see how she'd react, and to play out whatever weird little fantasies went through that guy's perverted mind… When she realized abruptly that she was looking at Barbara.

And then everything came back to her. She dropped her forehead onto her hands, closed her eyes, and wished fiercely, for one moment, that the day before had never happened. Ending up with the ghost woman sleeping over was the only compromise she'd finally agree to, to make sure he didn't 'try anything.' And since she was no longer five years old, it felt nothing less than completely weird to have her mother currently sleeping in bed with her.

Deciding it was best to let sleeping ghosts lie, she proceeded to get out of bed as quietly as possible, wincing when the bed gave a little squeak of protest, and stood, gazing around her room with a critical eye. Hell if he wasn't here, she could feel his energy seeping from every corner of the room… She never would have mistaken Barbara for him, otherwise.

Picking up her pencil from the desk, she chucked it in the general direction of her wardrobe, only for it to hit something resistant about three feet from the floor. It started to fall again, was caught, and spun, as the ghost with the most slowly made himself visible, yawning. "Helluva way to wake a guy." He muttered, twisting the pencil between his fingers. "Now, a chick, she gets woken with a kiss. Me? My babes tries to put my eye out with a pencil."

His words were low, and she'd learned long since that at any volume, he had a way of keeping them between just the two of them, but his apparent nonchalance about being heard made her glance nervously in her godmother's direction, before sighing, and giving the poltergeist her most pleading expression. "Goddamnit, fix this…?" She pleaded, knowing full well he could do no such thing.

Beetlejuice pursed his lips, sitting up in midair, and tucked the pencil behind his ear in thought. Well, she'd never see that again… "So what, twist time, erase a few memories? Invite a few buddies of mine from the neitherworld, to give them a good 'convincing?' Sure babes, no problem, you go right ahead and take your pick… Course, any one of them will get me exorcised… Well, 'cept maybe that last one." He paused, and seemed to put some thought into this option.

Lydia crossed the distance between them, and in an action she'd never taken before, put her arms around his shoulders, and pulled herself into the floating poltergeist's lap, tucking her head against his strong shoulder. He grunted, in what might have been surprise, but didn't protest. Instead, his arms instinctively went to cradle her, and his mouth came to rest gently atop her head, as he breathed in her enticing scent. Meanwhile, Lydia squeezed her eyes shut, and just for a moment, tried to pretend they were the only ones in the world…

"They can't take you away, right?" She whispered. Her voice, it sounded so small, so vulnerable, so completely unlike his Lyds, that for a moment it stole his words. "Whatever happens… You're not going anywhere? Promise me, Beej…" Her tone dropped to just a whisper, a tickling breath against his throat. "I can't lose you. You know that."

He knew that? Hell if he knew that… But coming from her lips, he couldn't deny it was true. Swallowing the lump that had risen, unbidden, in his throat, he tried to laugh off her concern, while his heart, had he been living, would have been thudding a mile a minute within him. This was the first time that it had been _Lyds_ to surrender this kind of distance… And whether he wanted to admit it or not, his mind wasn't coming up with a single perverted thought to take advantage of it. Not when she was like this.

"Hell babes," He drawled, as much of a lie as anything he'd ever offered the girl, "I ain't goin' nowhere. You know that." But it _was_ a lie… As much as he wanted it to be the truth. Because as her legal guardians, the Deetzs', even the Maitlands', could press charges against him for putting a geis on a frickin' _minor_…

And the only possible outcome for that, since there wasn't a judge in the neitherworld that liked him worth shit, was his ass getting handed to the lost soul's room. Until now, he'd only had to worry about the prince, where that was concerned… But no way Olivia would hesitate to chuck his ass to that doorway of the damned. If only this had happened a few months later… The girl would be of legal age then, and her parents would no longer have shit for power over either one of them.

_Or if we were married_, he thought, with a little bit of a smirk, running his thick fingers through the soft, sweet-smelling strands of supple ink that crowned his babes. She'd be a legal adult then, by neitherworld law… Wouldn't matter if she _was_ still twelve, she'd _still _be a legal adult, that way. He dropped his lips briefly against her forehead, tasting her warm skin with the tip of his tongue, and making her laugh softly, while he turned this over.

Hell, that was an idea, wasn't it? He'd never thought of marriage as anything but a way out. Maybe a way out with a hot thing by his side to amuse himself with, in Olivia's case. Now that he _was _out, more or less, he hadn't given it a second thought in years. After all, if he found some living chick to marry, he'd no longer have an excuse to hang out with Lyds… And now that it had occurred to him, the thought of marrying someone he actually gave a damn about, admittedly freaked him out a little.

Clearing his throat to broach the idea nonetheless, since they did have a few hours to kill before Juno's appointment- He was interrupted by Lydia suddenly gasping, shoving him back, and dropping to the ground, putting her hands almost defiantly in an 'I wasn't doing anything' pose, behind her back, as she turned to face her waking godmother.

Frustrated as hell, Beetlejuice decided, for Lyds's sake, to avoid any further drama for the moment, and went invisible, the question he wanted to ask on the tip of his tongue, and now utterly useless.

With no clue how close she'd come to being asked a question that could quite reasonably have saved both their asses, as well as changed her life forever, if she'd accepted, Lydia put on her most innocent face- And damned if the woman still didn't buy it without a second thought, smiling, and stretching slowly, in a way she was sure her best friend was ogling, despite his dislike of the woman. "Morning, sweetie." She murmured, in an odd echo of what Beetlejuice might have offered… Admittedly, a little more pervertedly.

"Morning, Barb." Lydia answered, moving right through where Beetlejuice had been a moment before… Only to feel just a ghostly kiss of coolness brush against her skin, with the caress of his invisible fingers against her throat. Smiling, where Barb couldn't see it, she bent to begin sorting through her wardrobe. She may as well pick her clothes out now, for her meeting with Prince Vince… Vincent. It was odd, how strange it was to call him by his real name, these days.

Barbara watched her without a word, utterly oblivious to the poltergeist's presence. Her soft brown eyes were worried, not just with everything that had happened the day before, but also with what so far, she hadn't told anyone else. She hadn't forgotten the words Lydia had confided in her, some time before, about the 'guy' who'd been her best friend, and started broaching the possibility of more… Or the way Lydia's eyes had look, when she'd made her decision about it. The idea that she loved _him_, that dirty deceitful, trouble-making lecher… She couldn't bring herself to believe it, but the way Lydia had hovered over him the day before, touching his injured arm just so tenderly…

Avoiding her eyes, Barbara picked at the imprinted pattern of her dress with a sigh. Her baby was growing up. Sure, it had to happen, sooner or later. The living aged, grew, changed… She'd resigned herself to that long ago, and had done her best since to deal with it. But none of that had ever involved Beetlejuice.

Still… Her gaze crept upwards, to where Lydia was holding a light gray turtleneck up against herself, maybe to decide how it would look with the pale blue jeans she'd picked out, and the corners of her mouth turned down, just a little. She'd always respected Lydia's judgment, where people were concerned. The fact that she didn't take things at face value, the fact that she didn't shy away from the strange or frightening, and didn't care what anyone else thought about the people she cared about, were the very reasons they themselves were so close, even with growing up with her. So now, because she personally didn't agree, all that respect for the girl's point of view went out the window?

"What do you see in him, Lydia?" She heard herself asking… oddly, without exasperation or any sense of being condemning for her choice. Just an honest question, offered without a hint of judgment… And she could see, from Lydia's blank, confused look, that it surprised the hell out of the girl.

Then, slowly, Lydia smiled, her brown eyes growing warmer and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen the girl allow, and her hair fell over her eyes, like an attempt to veil that very look, giving her an unintentionally shy air. "He makes me happy." Lydia whispered, before blushing subtly, laughing, and brushing her hair away, eyes shining. "Okay, so he's an idiot sometimes… A total horn-dog at others… But he makes me laugh, and we have all kinds of fun together… Always have. He's never treated me like a kid, even if he didn't use to hit on me all the time. And he looks out for me. You have no clue how many times he's risked his ass, to…"

And here she fell silent, looking faraway, as Barbara battled with the confusing sense of sympathy she now felt for the man she pretty much hated more than any other, if only because it was obvious that her goddaughter did see something in him worthwhile. When Lydia spoke again, it was with a sense of all barriers having been lowered between them, a stark, frightening moment of complete honesty, that clearly scared her to show. "I can't… lose him, Barb. Please."

Barbara, honestly, didn't know what to say to that. She finally settled for murmuring, "We'll see how things go, honey. Right now I can't promise anything. You know that."

In an abrupt turnaround, anger quickly suffused the girl's face, and her lips twisted in a frustrated expression, as she shook her head. "Yes, you _can_." She whispered, the utter sense of helplessness and fury managing to show, even through the quietly spoken words. "You can promise you'll look out for _me_, instead of just being out for revenge, like everyone else is. Or is that too much to ask?"

Again, Barbara didn't know what to say to this, but this time, she didn't even try to pretend she did. Instead she sighed, looked around the room for a source of inspiration of something else to talk about, in an attempt to salvage her relationship with the girl, and finally settled on the clothes now held in a tight-fisted death grip in Lydia's hands. "So," She said softly, "A prince, huh? I guess you were keeping a _few _secrets, then. That _poltergeist_, dating a _prince_, hopping back and forth to the land of the _dead_… Even I can't do that, you know…"

Slowly, slowly, the white faded from Lydia's knuckles, but Barbara made no mistake that things had gone back to just the way they were before. One side versus the other. And her goddaughter would rather be on Beetlejuice's side than hers. "You always liked him," The goth girl said aloud, putting her chosen outfit back, and as much as anything for a way to kill time, picking among her things for another, "I guess, who wouldn't want their kid to fall for a prince charming? I mean," A tight little smile, "He was definitely that."

"That's something… _he_, could never be accused of." Barbara agreed, giving almost exactly the same humorless smile in return. She'd clearly messed up… Lost whatever edge the girl was offering her, however briefly. And she wasn't likely to get it back. Not without changing sides… And she couldn't bring herself to do that-

"That's why I love him." Lydia answered bluntly, without any trace of reservation whatsoever. They could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Well, there it was. She loved him. Not exactly a lot of room for misinterpretation there, was there?

Of course, unbeknownst to Barbara, though Lydia had to have a pretty good idea, Beetlejuice was sitting there in midair, slack-jawed, staring at the girl. What the _fuck?_ He'd never really expected any chick to say those words, much less one that actually knew him well enough for it to mean shit… Much less _Lyds_. And like _this_? How the hell was he supposed to tell if she was just trying to rile the bitch, or if she really meant it?

"Fuck, babes…" He muttered under his breath, not sure if she heard him… Not sure if he _wanted_ her to hear him. Pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer. "What the hell?"

After a long, long pause, it was in fact Barbara who broke the silence, and not him. "You don't mean that, Lydia…" She pleaded weakly, though of course what she was really saying was, _Dear god, tell me you don't mean that, Lydia!_ "You're- You're too young to know what you're talking about…"

Lydia turned, and met Barbara's desperate look with an utter lack of sympathy. Instead, softly, she countered with, "How old were you, when you knew you were in love with Adam?"

Clearly, Barbara hadn't expected this question. Especially since she had no chance to bluff her way out of it, having told her daughter many times that she'd loved Adam from the first time they'd kissed… When she was fifteen. So she just stared for a moment, then murmured, "Sweetie… That was different…"

Slowly, the girl smiled, an empty smile, that knew very well it was no different at all. "How?" She asked softly, her tone thick with emotion. "How is it different, Barbara?"

Frustration, fury, and fear, swept over the ghost woman in a rush, and she heard herself snapping, in a tone she never used with her daughter, "You're only saying that to make a point! You don't mean it! There's no way you love that-" Of course, she was lying through her teeth, and the look on her face knew it. She was just grasping at straws here, wanting to be reassured that it was all a lie, even if that would be the real lie. And while secretly, Beetlejuice was inclined to believe her… He also wanted to smack her, hard, for trying to take back the words his girl had just offered, which suddenly seemed so damn important.

Lydia's eyebrows swept up, and her lips settled into an angry pursing. "You want me to prove it?" She asked, a hint of dark humor to the words. "How, you want me to say it to his face? Fine." She turned around, threw the dress she was holding into the poltergeist's arms, making him unintentionally betray his presence, then curse at being caught that way, before saying, with nothing like affection. "I love you, Beej. Apparently, she won't believe it, unless I tell _you_."

Grudgingly, Beetlejuice went visible, while Barbara did something she rarely did… She swore. Quite creatively. Beetlejuice grinned, and cocked an eyebrow at her. "You kiss that husband of yours with that mouth?" He taunted, suddenly enjoying this. "Hell, come to think of it…" He stopped there, abruptly, about to admit that she'd kissed _him_ with that mouth- well, the other way around, whatever- before realizing that was probably information Lydia didn't need to know.

Barbara spun on her goddaughter, truly angry now, for reasons known only to her. "He was here the whole time? You _knew_?"

The goth girl look vaguely amused, and not the least bit reproached. "Do you know him _at all_?" She muttered, reclaiming her dress, and placing that too, back where it had been.

"Babes, I don't think she even knows you!" The poltergeist cackled, thoroughly enjoying the flushed expression of anger and frustration on the Maitland woman's face. For the moment, he chose not to press Lydia's words to him, a moment before… Hell, they didn't need witnesses to that! 'Cause he sure as _hell_ was going to get his way with her, now that she'd admitted it… And for the moment, he was going to pretend that was why he suddenly cared so much whether she meant it.

Barbara drew her hand down her face, her expression twisted stone, as she watched Lydia turn, once again, to her wardrobe, this time pulling things out with both hands, like a burrowing animal, and throwing them behind her when they didn't meet her approval. Anything to avoid the roiling hot mass of emotion currently churning in her gut, over an admission she hadn't meant to make, and couldn't take back. Anything to pretend her foster mother wasn't staring at her like she was just _so _disappointed…

That was what she'd been trying to avoid all these years, after all. Not punishment. She could handle that. Not separation from her best friend. They couldn't _do_ that. But _that_, that look in the woman's eyes behind her, like she'd just messed up so bad, and she was just so ashamed of her… That was worth a lifetime of lies.

"Go away." She muttered, breaking the silence, when Barbara didn't. "I need to get ready." Never mind that her meeting with the prince wasn't scheduled for hours yet. Never mind that Beetlejuice would pounce on her about her words, the moment the woman was gone. She just couldn't stand those damn accusing eyes of hers a moment more.

That being said, she was more than a little surprised, when Barbara did just this. In fact, it made her insides lurch just a little more… Like the woman had just given up. _You're a lost cause, Lydia Deetz,_ she scowled to herself, biting her lip as she pulled out one more outfit, no better or worse than any other. Not even glancing to see which one it was, as she stood, and turned to face the mirror.

And cursed, seeing her reflection, the flat of her hand coming down hard on her dresser. Beetlejuice jumped, albeit it still already hovering in midair, and gave her a 'what-now' expression, briefly forgetting the matter he'd intended to press. "Hell babes, what bit your ass?" He grumbled, floating over, hands in his pockets, to see what she was upset about now.

The faint bruise, a semi circle on the goth girl's cheekbone, was admittedly, barely noticeable. Beetlejuice himself hadn't given it a second glance, having already made his case on the injury clear. But Beetlejuice wasn't Vincent… Who _would_ notice, and who would _not_ settle with a simple threat… Not that the poltergeist actually had either. But Vince could do a lot worse than Beetlejuice, if he got it in his head…

"Damn it…" She traced the faint mark with her fingertip, closed her eyes, and remembered the last time she'd gone to the neitherworld with such a mark. They'd only been friends at the time, and still the brooding prince had been ready to take someone's head off… It had taken all her persuasion to convince him that Beetlejuice had already dealt with it. And he'd, changed, since then. He wasn't the gentle, if gloomy, man he'd been before. And while it wasn't anything she could put her finger on… She did _not_ want the guy to know how this had happened.

"Cover-up." She muttered now, regretting for one brief instant that she didn't use the stuff herself. "Beej, is there any chance at all, that you have woman's cover-up in those deep pockets of yours?" The poltergeist gave her a dubious look, then, for her sake, checked. Five minutes later had him with three piles of junk that reached almost to his waist, but nothing that was any use to her.

"All right," She murmured, choosing another tact as he shoved the stuff randomly back into his pockets, "Let's try this then… How fast can you get me into town?"

Beetlejuice just grinned.

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Five hours. Five _fricking_ hours… She'd woken up around ten, plenty of time for him to get her alone, to broach his proposal, to get a preacher, and have this whole damn thing settled between them, no need to get anyone else involved. Five hours, between then, and now, as was left staring aimlessly at the tacky carpet of the waiting room, while Adam Maitland announced their arrival to the blue-skinned beauty queen. Five hours, with a couple hundred opportunities, and he hadn't asked her.

Why the hell _not_?

A glance around the waiting room showed the usual collection of freaks and pitiful creatures, each displaying their unique, and often unpleasant, method of leaving their breathing life behind. The Maitlands of course, they'd seen it all before. Probably a couple times. The yahoos were still freaked out though, he could tell. It made him chuckle a little, thinking that Lyds had never seemed to think about shit like that twice. That a half-grown breather took this stuff all in stride, while a couple of actual stiffs like those two were still acting all shell-shocked…

Olivia on the other hand, simply did her best not to stare, and pass off the whole thing as nothing impressive. The tenseness of her shoulders, and the way her eyes were cast strictly ahead though, pretty much not looking at anything at all, even what she was looking at, told a different story. And that other guy? Eh, Edmond, or some shit… He couldn't stop staring. Too used to the dead that didn't show a mark on them, like the Maitlands… Hell, even Beetlejuice was in better shape than this crowd. Guy looked pale as the dead, too, amusing the poltergeist to no end.

How the hell had these chumps managed to raise a kid like… Well shit, come to think of it, he'd had something to do with that too, hadn't he? _That_ little realization pleased him to no end…

Unaware that he was grinning ear to ear, he didn't notice as Adam Maitland turned back, to tell everyone there'd be a short wait, and caught him beaming like he'd just pulled a gold brick out of thin air. His brows furrowed, he warned the poltergeist quietly, "Don't get cocky. This isn't over yet." When he moved on past, turning back away again, Beetlejuice flipped him off lazily, never quite banishing his grin.

The wait was only about five minutes… Not that it _seemed _like five minutes, but was actually four weeks, the way that place could trick the mind sometimes… He'd been here often enough to know when it really had been five minutes, and was sure he wasn't off by more than ten, when their names were called, and the five of them rose, shuffling down the hall.

Despite the wait being so short, it had affected one member of their group a lot more than the others. Olivia's squeeze was moving… strangely. Sort of an off-step, not quite strong stride, his gaze cast somewhere in the middle of the air before him, his hands limp at his sides. He seemed to be sweating. His eyes, glazed over. Beetlejuice remembered vaguely what the old bat had said, about some breathers never being meant to deal with the dead. By that estimate, Lydia's old man was currently very much in his own version of hell.

Feeling a brief, rare moment of pity, Beetlejuice pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, and offered it to the guy, figuring he needed it. His eyes glassy, the man looked up at him, seemed surprised to see someone he recognized, and then, surprising the poltergeist, took the offering with a shaky hand, and placed it between his lips. Seemed even yuppies needed something to settle their nerves, now and then. Feeling generous, he offered the guy a light as well.

Not even a whole breath, barely a puff, and the man started choking, suddenly looking pulled back to himself with an abruptness that seemed painful, though he still didn't give up right away… Not until Olivia turned to see what the commotion was, saw her husband, and snagged the cigarette from his lips in one angry motion. "Oh _hell_ no!" She snapped, throwing it to the ground, and stomping it with an enthusiasm that suggested she was currently imagining it as someone's face. In his newly re-aware state, the look her husband gave her was… odd, by the poltergeist's standards.

Beetlejuice just snorted, half pity, half amusement. Damn, that poor bastard was whipped… Made him more grateful than ever that he hadn't ended up with the bitch…

He stopped at this point, forgetting anything else, his gaze fixated sharply on a sliding vinyl shade, set precariously and unassumingly into the brick wall, tucked among a hundred doors that ran the corridor's length, with no telling sign to betray what lay beyond. A terrible, prickling heat raised the hairs on the back of his neck, and he stared for a moment, before forcing his gaze away. No one else had noticed, no one else had even slowed. But then, none of them were currently at risk for ending up in there…

The thing was, he could feel it. _Feel_ what lay beyond that door. The darkness. The suffocation. The absolute absence of being. It burned into his aura of power like acid, just being this close… No way in hell he was ending up in there.

"Juno…" Adam greeted her in relief as he swung her door open, as if now that they were there, surely she could solve all their problems. This being despite the fact that she'd been aware of said problems, far longer than any of them, and had yet to have done a damn thing about them.

The ghost woman looked up, rather impassively he thought, or at least without much interest, clearly not seeing this as the matter of immortal life and death that it was to each of them. For a moment in fact, she actually looked as if she simply had no idea why they were there. Beetlejuice wondered if the centuries were starting to get to her…

"Well, sit down!" She snapped at last, waving her hand irritably. Despite her invitation, there seemed to be only two seats… And Olivia and Barbara took these, when no one else moved to. Beetlejuice propped himself up next to the door, and waited for the show to begin.

Funny thing was, for once, Juno didn't seem to _know _where to begin. She tapped the fingers of one hand across her desk, clearly upset about something, while her other, for once without its familiar companion, fanned across her lips, like there was something she was avoiding saying. It was of course, completely unlike her. And Beetlejuice felt far from his first inkling of worry.

"All right," Juno said at last, slamming both hands down, and making everyone present, including the poltergeist himself, jump, "Here's the situation people. Your daughter…" She paused here, glancing in the poltergeist's direction, "And/or legally bound partner-in-crime, as I'm well aware that you two are so fond of referring to each other as- a fitting moniker if I've ever heard one- has been contractually bound for going on five years now. The contract itself is, as it is, unbreakable by myself, or by any of you… With one obvious exception."

"Five years ago as well," She went on, not giving them a chance to dwell on any of this, "One Lydia Deetz was granted a visa, a passport if you will, allowing her to freely access the neitherworld, as well as leave again, at her discretion. This was only made possible through the efforts of one Prince Vincent Royal, who as you may or may not be aware now, had an on-going relationship with the girl, over a period of some years. Though once again of course, none of you four, had any idea what was going on." There was of course, some trace of scorn here.

"Vincent isn't the reason we're here…" Adam began, only to abruptly find himself with Juno standing, and her finger an inch from the man's face.

"Did I say it was your turn to talk? I didn't think so. Now." She sat back down, slowly. "Over the course of said five years, Lydia Deetz has managed to infract on almost every rule set up for neitherworld denizens, or visitors. The girl has kept me in constant paperwork. Heaven forbid when she actually crosses over, I'll never be given a chance to rest. These?" She waved her hand, and several thick folders promptly blocked her from the sight of the two women currently sitting. "These are about half of the headaches she's caused me so far. No, let me rescind that… These are about half of the headaches she's caused me so far, _involving paperwork_."

"Oh, Adam…" Barbara whispered, reaching instinctively for his hand. Beetlejuice rolled his eyes, and mocked her silently, _Oh, Adam_…

"We thought she was getting _better_…" Olivia whispered, clearly not sure what to make of all this.

"Then I would have hated to know what she was like before." Juno muttered, banishing the folders with another wave of her hand… All but one. This, Beetlejuice noted, she pointedly ignored. And that worried him. Because whatever was in _that_ folder, was likely what was going to decide the poltergeist's fate.

Still, as much as anything to fight his own unwelcome case of nerves, Beetlejuice decided that it was his turn to butt in. "Oh, come on," He growled, trying to look nonchalant by picking his teeth with his thumbnail, "Lyds don't do shit wrong, and you know it! I'd swear you even like the girl…" Which was, he knew, saying a lot.

But he didn't expect Juno to sigh, look tired, and amazingly, agree. "You're right, Beetle. I do like her. The fact that she manages to keep you out of more than half the trouble you usually cause, is not even her sole redeeming feature. But that isn't the point of this meeting."

This said, she turned to Lydia's parents, and asked the question he'd been dreading. "I take it then, that you did not give your consent to your daughter sealing said binding with our resident con-man?"

"Of course not!" Barbara protested, half-rising from her chair. "Do you honestly think that we…?"

Juno held up her hand, making a sharp noise. "A simple 'no,' will suffice, Mrs. Maitland. I see." A pause, as she folded her hands. "I admit of course, I suspected as much, but it really wasn't my place to interfere… Keeping track of your daughter's actions, and accepting their consequences, is your responsibility. I'm just expected to fill out the appropriate forms."

"However…" And here, a longer stretch passed, as she considered each in turn, her gaze landing lastly, and longest, on Beetlejuice. "The fact remains that Beetle here, did forge a binding legal contract with a minor, without given consent of her legal guardians. As you've expressed desire that this contract be voided, I am obligated to tell you that it is within your right to press criminal charges…"

"Yes!" Olivia and Adam yelled, at almost the same time, making Beetlejuice scowl. Oddly though, both Barbara and… Er, he'd forgotten his name again… Chuck, whatever, remained silent. Probably for different reasons though, the breather looked like he was a bit out of it again…

"Will you please let me finish?" Juno demanded, more of a sigh than an exclamation of anger. "As I was saying, it is in your legal right to press criminal charges. That still does not mean that it is in your right to void the contract. However, if the convicted _is_ found guilty, the likely sentence… will be exorcism." A small pause here, to let this sink in. "After which of course, any contract he holds will be pretty much useless."

This was it then, this was when they'd all jump at the chance to have him out of their lives, or afterlives, for good, and send his ass to damned man's land. He wasn't trying to play it cool anymore. He was pissed. It wasn't right, them stepping in after all this time, when him and Lyds had something going, something good, and just taking it all away. As much as he knew the words didn't count for shit, it wasn't _fair_.

But the fact was, he stood there, and he waited for them to damn him to hell, and the seconds ticked by, without anyone saying a word. Not even Olivia. Chuck might've, if he'd had an ounce of sense left in him. But as it was, no one spoke. And gradually, he came to the baffled conclusion that they weren't half as ready to exorcise his sorry ass, as he'd expected them to be. Not that it made shit for sense to him.

At least not until Adam reminded him of something he, himself, had almost forgotten. Something he wouldn't have figured as being worth two cents after all this time. "Barbara…" He whispered, sounding utterly broken from his own reluctance, "That's what he saved us from."

So that was it? A glance at Olivia proved that she was probably thinking the same thing. What the hell, for once a good deed, not that he did many, didn't turn around to bite him in the ass. Well, he supposed it had done that awhile back, but… This sure as hell made up for it! He wouldn't have figured the backstabbing broad for caring shit for debts, either!

But that wasn't all of it, because the next to speak was Barbara, murmuring, "And Lydia would never forgive us… Juno, we want him out of our lives. Not exorcised. Even he doesn't deserve that."

Juno smiled, just a little, humorlessly. "Then I'm afraid, people, that you're out of options." She tapped lightly on the wood, as if that was that. "Unless you want to ask him again if he's willing to void the contract…" It was Beetlejuice's turn to smile, ignoring the unsettled feeling somewhere he usually only ever felt anything for Lyds. "Well then, that's that."

"Now to the other matter at hand." The caseworker went on, without pause, surprising everyone there. "One you may all find of far more immediate interest."

Everyone stared at her blankly. "Wh-what?" Adam asked at last, hopelessly confused. "I thought the reason we were here…"

"Please, that was only a more recent development." Juno dismissed, without batting an eye. "The fact of the matter is, I would have had to have you in here today, with or without your recent little revelation. Yes, all of you." Her hand moved to the sole folder now gracing her desk, flipping it open. Beetlejuice tensed. In the relief of the moment, he'd almost forgotten his worry over what lay in those unassuming yellow pages…

"We need to discuss the terms of Lydia Deetz's visa." She went on, suddenly looking more agitated than before, for reason he was oblivious to. "Due to an addendum that I'm not _alone _in having overlooked until now… The visa expires on your daughter's seventeenth birthday, when she becomes a legal adult by neitherworld law."

"Well, thank god…" Someone said, the poltergeist not really noticing who, as he was too busy exploding with-

"What the _HELL_?" Suddenly no longer content to stand along the sidelines, he moved to the front of the room, zipping the two chairs, and anyone else in his way, to the side expertly, as he commanded the central position before Juno's desk, looking over her furiously. "_Expires_? What the fuck are you playing at, Juno?"

Juno, again, didn't so much as twitch. "It's out of my hands, Beetle." She denied, folding said hands across her desk, with a look of irritation. "It was part of the initial contract offered, Lydia should have caught it in the paperwork, being the one who filled it out… Though god knows I don't blame her for missing it. _That _particular piece of work was very expertly written… You couldn't have expected any less, it coming from the Royals. What's more," And here she frowned, obviously taking this last part with a grain of annoyance herself, "All avenues I've taken to having it renewed, _and yes I have tried_, have led to dead ends."

Beetlejuice just stared, not sure if he was more surprised that Juno seemed to be taking this as personally as he was, or pissed by the fact that just when things had finally seemed to be going in his favor, however briefly, the damn floorboards had to be yanked out from under him again. But getting pissed at _her_ wasn't going to get him anywhere… He scowled, forcing his hackles to lower, if only marginally, closing his eyes for several long deep breaths, which amazingly no one interrupted, before asking with forced softness, "Will you just tell me the damned loophole, Juno? For _once. _I know there fucking is one…"

Silence. Silence until he finally opened his eyes, ready to yell at her again, only to see a look of what could only be called pity in the normally emotionless woman's eyes. "There's a loophole." She agreed at last, quietly. "You know damn well there's a loophole. There's always a loophole. In Lydia Deetz's case, it's this… If she marries a permanent resident of the neitherworld before her seventeenth birthday, she'll be granted full legal status as a dual citizen. Permanently."

The poltergeist's breath would have left him in a rush… If he could, at the moment, even think about breathing. His reactions following this were mixed, he wanted to yell in relief, he wanted to whoop for joy, he wanted to take one of those broads he despised so much, and start dancing with them… And in the midst of his internal celebration, a rather disturbing grin twisting his ghostly features, even as all her parents, even her father, were protesting what this seemed to suggest now…

Juno cut in, with words that didn't immediately register in the poltergeist's joy-drunk mind… Until about a second after she said them. Then his world turned upside down yet again. "I assure you, despite the conclusion you four… five… just jumped to, it's not what you think." This time, not a pause, so much as a hesitation. "You see, the arrangements are already being made, as we speak."

And it was, perhaps, a heartbeat longer before he understood… A heartbeat he didn't even have, that therefore shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. And then everything, everything, went far colder than even a dead man should ever suffer. A wordless curse, more a garbled sound of outrage than anything, left the poltergeist's lips…

And then, without waiting for permission, he was gone.

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	5. Caught Off Guard

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story_, __is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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I'm sorry I haven't gotten around to replying to any of my wonderful reviews yet... I will, I assure you. I'm just a little behind. Now, as to this chapter... Please don't cry, 'foul, that wasn't the way that happened!' This is an alternate universe, people. Yes, even to Lydia was Late. There are going to be some differences. The beetle pendant in both looks the same, more or less, it was a 'disinheritance gift,' but from there... Well, admittedly, there may be a few differences. I haven't worked out all of them yet myself. Just try to enjoy with an open mind.

Now once again, a couple of people saw right where I was going with this... For once I'm glad. That means the leap isn't nearly as outrageous as it first seemed to me. :) Please enjoy.

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The Royal Garden… It wasn't that this was her first time seeing it, or anything. Vincent had brought her here many times over the years, though always when the castle would be empty, certain from the first time that she'd fall in love with it. And she always had. And after all this time, a mere breath in the length of the garden's existence, that hadn't changed. Something so beautiful, in her mind, shouldn't exist, not even in the land of the dead… And even seeing it again, for the dozenth time, she still couldn't wrap her mind around it.

She paused at the irises, her favorites from the first time she'd seen them, a midnight blue glistening with captured drops of frozen light, hanging precariously along every petal. The soft blooms lifted defiantly against their heavy weight, upon such slender stems, opened reverently to the sky, whose beauty they reflected so perfectly. Unfolded leaves, curled just so delicately, black with a brush of blue along their edges, smelling of something sweet, and uniquely of the fall scent that filled so much of the neitherworld. Like a dying season, held eternally in its last moments of life.

It was tempting to touch them, but instead she straightened, having knelt to look at them, and realized quite suddenly that she was no longer alone. A little embarrassed, but not overly worried, she turned to see Vincent standing behind her, a handful of the very irises she loved held out in her direction… And her breath caught in her chest. He looked… different. It couldn't have been that long since the last time she saw him, but though unmistakably him, this was not the Vincent she remembered.

To begin with, this was not a boy she faced now, but a man, and his maturity reflected in every facet of his appearance, as well as something that swept deeper, his stance, his bearing… The glint of what could be called nothing but devastating intensity, looking back at her from his fathomless black eyes. His hair, longer than when they'd parted, fell across his features, casting already exaggerated facial shapes into sharp relief, almost savagely… He would in fact, be just as frightening as he was beautiful, and there was no question he was that, if not for the soft gentleness of his mouth, as he smiled at her, for once without any trace of hesitation.

Her heart was thudding away, treacherously, within her, and she was confused by the sudden weakness of her legs. She cursed away silently at both, as she was forced to realize that the man she'd cared for, for so long, now seemed to possess every strength and confidence she'd once left for him lacking. "It can't have been that long since I've seen you." She whispered, trying with all her strength to take a step back, and finding herself rooted to the spot.

"Three months," He murmured, his voice pure shadow, pure velvet, placing the flowers into her unprotesting hands, "Seventeen days. Four hours." His answer left her a little alarmed, and a little giddy. He'd kept track like that? "I stopped counting the minutes some time ago… It would have driven me mad."

"Now… um…" Some of her common sense was returning, and though she grasped the flowers so hard that their delicate stems broke under her fingers, she was beginning to shake off the sense of being under a spell, smiling a bit half-heartedly, "I've tried to get in touch with you a bunch of times… You've always said you were busy. I figured maybe you'd just moved on, so I stopped trying."

The little prickle of alarm had become a siren in her head now, and despite her words, she closed her eyes to try to shut it out, wondering what the hell was wrong with her. This was _Vincent_. Just _Vincent_. God… She didn't still have feelings for him, did she? It was obvious he'd long ago given up on her… And fuck, _Beetlejuice_… Over her own inner confusion, she almost didn't hear the prince's next words.

"I assure you, I've done anything but 'move on,' my dear Lydia." He murmured. She bit her lip, enjoying the way, when she opened her eyes, that he was looking at her. She remembered that look. That look had kept her with him for three years… That look of absolute worship, of seeing something too beautiful to rightly exist… With no effort to keep her from seeing how much she meant to him, to the depths of his soul.

She enjoyed it, and she felt like an ass for it, and she _still _enjoyed it, and she wished to god that her best friend- no, her _boyfriend_- was there with her, to help figure out the mix of emotions in her head. But the prince wasn't done… What was he saying now? "…I've simply done all I can to be a better man, than the one who could not hold you."

Lydia stared at him blankly, abruptly aware that Vincent hadn't simply invited her to enjoy the flowers. "Um…" She uttered intelligently, finally taking a step back from him, as she reminded herself again and again that there was someone else she was in love with, and hell if she was going to be swept up by Prince Charming here, just because he'd had a… Well, pretty much a complete makeover, from the last time she'd seen him. God, why did he have to look so good…?

"Look, Prince Vince," She ventured, trying to smile, though the expression came out somewhat pained- A fact that the prince currently seemed oblivious to- "I don't think…"

"Please!" His voice rose a little, in something like a sudden desperate frustration, though his features remained perfectly calm, before his tone dropped again, "Do not call me that hateful moniker, dear Lydia… Not you." He reached out, captured her free hand in his, and implored her, his eyes suddenly infinitely sad. "That you always used to call me 'Vincent,' dear Lydia… This was always one of the reasons you meant so much to me. Do not dismiss me as a mere crown-wearing fool, as the rest of the world has!"

For a moment she could only stare, then, softly, whisper, "Vincent… What is this? I thought you… I thought we were…"

"Friends?" He whispered back, looking sad again, but also defiant, in way she'd never seen him before. "I told you long ago, Lydia… I love you. That will never change. Ask me to be your friend, I will obey. Ask me to let you seek elsewhere for what I could not give you, I will not protest. Certainly I will try to correct the failings, which would lead you to part with me… But I will not protest."

"But Lydia…" His words dropped to a breath, and he'd come closer, their bodies only inches away now, so that they wouldn't be lost on her, "I will never, _never_, stop loving you. So please, don't ask me to do that… because I could not bear to fail you again."

It hit her like a weight, dropped from about forty feet up, directly into the depths of her gut. Even though she knew damn well it wasn't fair, she felt like an even bigger heel than she had the last time he'd said those words, or something similar, right after she'd broken up with him. _I'm going to hell_, she thought dully, at a loss for anything to say, _pick me out a hand basket now_.

But he was waiting for an answer, and whether it made sense or not, she knew damn well he deserved one. "Vincent… I'm, seeing someone else." _Oh yes, well done, Lydia… I'm 'seeing someone else.' Not 'I just declared my love for the guy I've been dating for almost a year, goddamnit, and you'll never guess who it is…' Just I'm 'seeing someone else.' Wonderful. That leaves absolutely no room for misinterpretation, does it?_ How long had she been there now, an hour, two hours? Five minutes, maybe. Beetlejuice wasn't saving her ass from this one.

And of course, Vincent wasn't put even slightly off his step. "And does this other man _love_ you, as I do?" He pleaded, his eyes suddenly going soft and warm, familiar in a way that just set her off her step some more, no longer a man, but a young boy facing his first love. "Would he _do_ for you, what I have _done_?"

The prickling heat of warning vanished, replaced by a sudden deep iciness, tracing its way across her flesh. She couldn't have said just what it was that caused this deep sense of dread to overwhelm her, certainly it wasn't just the words themselves… But some feeling that he meant more than simply waiting for her to come around, and change her mind. "What, have you done, Vincent?" She asked quietly, trying to convince herself that she was overreacting…

But his eyes abruptly went hard at her question, and he was once again, not the Vincent she'd known before. "Whatever I had to, my dear Lydia." He answered softly, as if this meant nothing at all, "Whatever it took to make myself a man who deserved you."

Fury, pity, and guilt, washed over her in rapid succession, and before she knew it, she was blinking back the stinging in her blurry eyes, determined not to cry. "Oh god, Vincent… That isn't what I wanted. I didn't want you to _change_… Not for me…" Because this man facing her now, he _wasn't_ Vincent. Not the Vincent she'd cared about so much. All the gentleness and hesitant tender mannerisms that she'd associated with him… He'd thought they were failings?

Vincent looked a little off step, and she realized her attempt not to cry was failing, miserably. Hot tears welled from her eyes, and she laughed, so miserable she couldn't help but laugh, because this all just so _wrong_… His hand reached out, lightly brushing away the salty wetness, and disentangled the broken flowers from her grasp, letting them fall without a second glance to the stone path.

"Lydia…" His gentle intonation of her name was filled with all the things that no one else had ever offered her… No, not even Beetlejuice. Especially not Beetlejuice. "More than anything, I want you to be happy. And I believe I can make you happy… Even if I don't seem to be doing so well now. Lydia… I want you to spend your life with me. Do you even know what I would do, to grant your every whim? To fulfill your every dream? I would tear apart the very laws of this reality, just to please you… Don't you understand? I can give you _everything_…"

A small pause, more a hesitation, than a moment to think through what he was about to say. "Lydia… I want you to come back to me. I want you to marry me. I'll be anything you want me to be, just don't _leave_."

He was holding her. She wasn't sure at just what point he'd taken her into his arms… Sure as hell didn't know why she hadn't protested. He was strong, strong in a way she'd always only associated with Beetlejuice, not just the strength of his body, but something deeper, that ran through every part of him, and hummed against her skin. And damn it, he'd just asked her to marry him, and she still wasn't pulling away. She was betraying her best friend… But god, she just didn't feel strong enough to stand by herself…

She had no intention of marrying him. That she knew without question. She was going back home when this was over, she was never saying a goddamn word about it to Beetlejuice, and everything was going to go back to the way it was supposed to-

And she didn't even know if he'd be waiting back there for her, when she did get back. Certainly not if her parents had anything to do with it. But that didn't mean she was just going to give up on him now… _Love isn't supposed to be easy_, she thought, her insides going crazy, but her mind finally pulling some semblance of sense from its confusion. She pulled back enough to glance at Vincent, adding to herself, _And it isn't always fair, either._

"Vincent… You brought me here, to ask me to be your fiancé?" She asked softly, with as much calmness as she could summon. "That's not… fair."

A small, guilty, pleased look, touched the corners of his mouth, not quite lifting in a smile. "You are already my betrothed, dear Lydia." He answered, sounding quite satisfied, if also as though he knew she wouldn't take this well. "From the first moment you allowed me to place my ring on your finger, and agreed to be my princess." A pause, as she stood there, staring. "By neitherworld law, we have been engaged to marry since that night."

"Oh… Oh, hell." Lydia muttered, no longer under whatever thrall had struck her at the changes to her longtime friend, and no longer feeling like half the heel she had before. He'd known… He'd _known_, and she _hadn't_, and… She was actually angry now. "How could you do that to me? You knew I thought it wasn't real!"

That quickly though, before he could respond, her anger was replaced by the heart-jarring revelation that if what he said were true… He could probably force the matter through now. She might no longer have any choice in it at all. "Vincent… I can't marry you." She protested, shaken. "Undo it, now… please? Vincent, I'm in love with someone else…" And this time, she actually said the words, not willing to let him misinterpret them again. "I- I don't love you." A confession that should have been offered a lifetime ago, when he'd first confessed his love for her… No matter how unfair it was.

If she expected Vince to look hurt, confused, _devastated,_ for god's sake… He didn't so much as twitch a hair, looking utterly calm about her rejection, as if he'd been expecting no less all along. "I've never fooled myself, believing you did." He admitted, a bit regretfully, but still without the heartbroken expression such a situation deserved. "But I believe… You could _learn _to love me, Lydia. In time." A small, gentle grasp of her fingers, "And we will _have _all eternity."

_Oh. Fuck. Oh-fuck, oh-fuck, oh-fuck!_ He was serious. She knew without a doubt that he was serious, and she suddenly had a whole different view of the wedding so many years ago, that her mother had broken so many rules to avoid. "Vincent…" She protested.

"Don't mistake me," He urged her now, clearly pleased when she didn't draw away, though truthfully she was just too in shock to notice he was holding onto her, "I have no intention of forcing you to marry me, Lydia. I simply… intend to prove to you, there is no better choice for you to spend your eternity with, than me. And my dear… I will stop at _nothing_, to do this."

Slowly, Lydia forced herself to calm. Okay, so they weren't talking shotgun wedding here. Hell if she knew what they were talking about, but at least she had some measure of _choice_… "I'm in love with someone else." She attempted, again, still not saying just who it was. "Nothing you can give me-"

"Not even the neitherworld?" He asked softly. She stopped, not expecting this, though she knew she long should have. Making her princess of the neitherworld… Didn't he realize that had never been something she wanted? Simply something she'd been willing to endure the thought of, for him? Sure, it was a wonderful fantasy… But she was no fool. She was living, and as far as the neitherworld was concerned, that made her unfit. Her life as a princess would be nothing less than hell.

Before she could point this out, he pressed on, clearly unaware of the thoughts that had been processing themselves in her mind… And said something she truly wasn't expecting. "Because my Lydia… You're almost seventeen. Unless you marry someone of this world by then… You will never be allowed to return."

Lydia suddenly had trouble breathing, and had to take a step back, finally drawing her hand from the prince's grasp. Never? Give up the neitherworld, for good? He… he just meant until she died… right? She kept staring at nothing at all, horrified, until slowly, she turned his words back over in her mind again. Unless she married someone of this world, right? Well… Beetlejuice was of this world, wasn't he?

There it was then, the flaw in his plan. She could breathe again, the air escaping her in a rush, and Lydia closed her eyes in relief. "Then I'll marry Beej." She whispered, so quietly that the words might have been lost on him. "He wants out anyway. As much as I want _in_."

A short pause, then- "Beetlejuice!" All his masks of patience and control fell away, as he almost roared the word, making her eyes fly open, as she took in the angry set to his face in shock. "You will marry that failure of my family? That disinherited disgrace to-" His jaws snapped shut, his eyes flashing, his hands curled into tight, angry fists. "You would choose _him_, over me? What of all your talk of _love…_?"

And then, in mid-tirade, his face went slack, before she could protest. For the first time in her visit, the prince looked visibly shaken, and his face went unnaturally pale. "You love… my cousin?" He whispered, looking like he was about to fall over, then and there. "You love… him? You- you choose him, over me?"

Lydia's mind meanwhile, was spinning with her own concerns. She hadn't missed a _thing_ Vincent had said, no matter how upset he'd been when he said it. True, he looked more like a lost soul than even an exorcised man could, but his words pounded through her mind like red hot coals, and she could only sputter, confused… "Cousin? Family? _Beetlejuice_?"

Her apparent fiancé, still looking weak as anything, managed a small sneer, though it didn't appear to be directed towards her. "Oh, he didn't tell you? What boundless honesty in that one… Even to the woman who loves him, he keeps his secrets, doesn't he? Not that I blame him… He is a disgrace to my uncle, and all of our family! Why would he brag over being disowned in such shame?"

Every instinct told her to protest, to defend him somehow… Other parts of her, far deeper, wanted to call him a liar, if only so Beetlejuice wouldn't be. "You said the royal family are born dead," She protested, looking anywhere but at the man who suddenly seemed to hate her best friend so much, "But… He was alive. He told me…" What had he told her, really? About being shunned by his family. She'd assumed he was alive at the time. But then, he'd talked about before he died! Never very specifically, true…

"Then he lied to you." Vincent denied coldly, seeming to regain possession of his senses again, though he seemed no less angry. "He was born dead, Lydia… Just as I was. Why do you think he wants so desperately to be part of the living world, except that it's the one thing being royalty couldn't give him?" A small, disgusted smirk at this, as he shook his head, before falling silent for a moment.

But he was not yet done, though his voice, when he spoke again, was far gentler. "Tell me, did you never wonder how it is that he could be so much more powerful than other dead? It is the power he inherited from _my_ family… From being born into a family whose values _he_ rejected and squandered, until we had no choice but to turn our backs on him! Even using that miserable misnomer he used to take such pride in, _Beetlejuice_, and binding him to it, so the world might forget!"

Lydia sat down, hard, not sure who to be more furious with, Vincent, who seemed to take such delight in Beetlejuice's deceit, and the pain it caused her, or the man himself, who had kept something like _this_… All these years. "It isn't even his name?" She whispered, feeling suddenly, savagely sick, and not sure herself why she cared so much. He had centuries of secrets he'd kept from her. She'd never had a problem with that before. So why did this bother her? _Because he didn't trust me… Not with this._ She'd never kept anything from him… And this didn't feel like a secret. It felt like a lie.

"His name?" He started out just as haughtily as before again, then trailed off abruptly, finally seeing how upset she was. Instantly he just stopped talking, then a moment later, knelt down before her, gazing at her with a lost expression. The one thing he'd never meant to do was hurt her… And right then, she looked _broken_. "Lydia, I'm sorry… I just refuse to believe that someone like him… could deserve someone like you. I have never understood why you cared for him… I cannot accept that you _love _him!"

She gave a small, bitter laugh, and didn't answer. God, this was miserable. And, maybe she was overreacting. This was Beetlejuice. This was hardly the worst thing he'd done. So what if this time it was to her?

And so he was royalty, so what? He'd left that behind… Who only knew how long ago? Maybe like his family, he just wanted to forget. Could she hate him for that? Damn, no, no matter how mad she was… She had to believe he had his reasons. _Vincent's right_, she thought wryly, _he doesn't deserve someone like me. But hell, who else would put up with him?_

It still left her in a funny spot. Namely, on her knees, her face streaked with old tears and new, before the guy who'd just asked her to marry him. Who, no less, she was apparently already engaged to. Damn, what a week. "I'm going home." She said softly, getting to her feet, albeit it a bit shakily. "Damn you, Vincent. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know if he even wants to marry me. I don't even know-"

_If he loves me_… He hadn't said it back, after all. She'd said it twice, and he hadn't said it back once. Damn. How had she not realized that until now? Vincent- damn the manipulating prince- at least he was willing to say it to her! "Nrrrg…" She put her hand to her head. "I- I don't hate you. But I wish to god I hadn't come today. I just want to go home."

A long silence, before the prince answered, softly, gently. "Then go home, my Lydia. But know that I haven't given up the hope, that one day _this_ will be your home." As she started to walk away though, not certain herself how she'd get back, he laid a hand on her shoulder, firmly stopping her, as he added, in a tone she hadn't heard from him before, "But I will give you something to think about, while you're gone."

_Now what?_ Her mind sighed wearily, as she started to turn back… Fully not expecting him to pull her into his arms, and without even brief hesitation, lower his head far enough to grab her lips firmly with his own. Demanding, chilling… Tingling senses raced through her body, suddenly feeling every whisper of ghostly energy she'd known only in glimpses when Beetlejuice kissed her, carefully and lovingly directed across every inch of her body. And this was no accident, he was doing it on _purpose_…

And even knowing this, still all thought of Beetlejuice's touch faded to almost nothing, as Vincent swept her up in a sense of burning cold that wrapped her body into one violently pleasurable embrace… Still she made no protest as his lips sought hers again and again, before, with a boldness she couldn't imagine the prince she knew possessing, seeking the warmth inside her mouth with a dance of ice and fire across her tongue, shaking her to her core.

She closed her eyes, and surrendered without another thought, returning the kiss with a sigh… The world spun, twisted, gave way, and-

"WHAT THE _HELL?"_

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	6. Deeper Than His Gaze

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story,_is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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I know that this is going really slowly. I know that I haven't even replied to all the reviews from two chapters ago. You all have every reason to be furious with me. But right now, my biggest concern is how well I pulled this newest chapter off... Some things never change. Even when it does make me a lousy friend. But for now... Want to take a peek in Vincent's head? Be warned, the gloomy prince has changed...

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"You see, the arrangements are already being made, as we speak…"

And it was, perhaps, a heartbeat longer before he understood. A heartbeat he didn't even have, that therefore shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. And then everything, everything, went far colder than even a dead man should ever suffer. A wordless curse, more a garbled sound of outrage than anything, left the poltergeist's lips…

Never mind the fact that only because he was already in the neitherworld, more or less, could he follow her without being summoned. At the moment, it felt like he could have moved between worlds by his damn self. And so what if the fact that she was geised to him, was the only reason he could reach through the fabric of time, space, and death, AND find the strands of sparks that bound them? He still ended up not five feet away from the girl he intended to rip out of the prince brat's hands…

Only to find himself face to face with _his_ girl, not just being kissed by some other guy, not just being kissed by that damn Royal… But obviously _enjoying _it as well.

"_WHAT THE HELL?_" He roared, not thinking of anything more than stopping the infuriating sight… And reaching out, _literally _yanking his girl out of the prince brat's hands. More or less as he'd planned after all. "_WHAT THE HELL?_" He roared again, as Lydia stumbled with the force of his pull, falling against him, her face blank as she looked up at the enraged poltergeist. An utterly '_I have no idea what just happened here,_' glassy look to her eyes. "_WHAT THE __FUCK__!"_

Despite his rather rough handling of the girl, despite the roar that seemed to be directed towards her, the one he was really asking the question of was Prince Vince. Who at the moment seemed torn between looking annoyed, and infuriatingly smug. "Something wrong, _cousin_?" He murmured silkily, nothing less than venom shining from the pure blackness of the Royal's eyes. "You seem to have some objection to my kissing my betrothed… Pray, do tell _why._"

Beetlejuice's understanding of the prince's words came in starts and jumps… First that he'd called him cousin… And then, almost violently, the fact that he'd just called Lydia his betrothed. Then, again, in a little flashback of what he'd seen only seconds before, the look of absolutely melting on the living girl's face, when the asshole prince had a hold of her lips.

This time, he did turn the question on Lyds, but far more quietly, if no more controlled. "What. The. Hell?" He hissed, his gaze burning with a sort of rage that made even his babes look wide-eyed, and momentarily afraid. "What. The. _Fucking_. Hell?"

"He… kissed me…" She whispered, her face, which had been flushed, then grown pale, now turning an unhealthy shade of green. Her eyes, bright and dark all at once, clouding briefly, as if still confused, before with a startled sense of understanding, seeming to realize the situation she was in. "Oh shit." She whispered, looking shaken. "Oh shit, Beej… It's not-"

_It's not what you think…_ The words she just couldn't bear to force past her lips, because the both of them knew damn well it was a lie. Knew damn well what he'd walked in on.

"Now, if you will kindly unhand my affianced…" Vincent prompted, a sharp, jagged finger prodding into Beetlejuice's newly open wound. "I trust for your sake, dear cousin," And there it was again, the word he would have avoided just a short time before like some diseased soul, "That you've not harmed her, in your enthusiasm… Or believe, I _will_ do something about it."

Beetlejuice started to retort, to tell the little royal brat just where he could go with his threats, when he finally got a good look at the man he was facing, and stopped in surprise. Sure, he'd heard the rumors… Heard people talking about just what a badass the brat prince was these days… But hell, when had he ever given a shit either way, over rumors about the Royal Family?

But the neitherworld had way of reflecting a person's true inner nature… If not immediately, then inexorably, nonetheless. This was one of the reasons there were so many versions of distorted down here, even apart from the way a poor sap died. It was a whole bunch of karmic shit, and inner beauty mumbo-jumbo, and more or less just a load of crap that he'd never given half a fuck about, but it boiled down to this- If a man looked dangerous, in the world of the dead, it's because he _was_.

So he made a little sound of surprise, yes, because he was surprised, but this was pretty much the extent of his reaction, because badass prince or not, _he_ was still fucking _Beetlejuice_. "I think you might be a little confused here, kid," He growled, taking hold of Lydia again, and for the moment, ignoring her role in this little act of betrayal, "See, that was _my_ girl you were just locking lips with… Not who-the-fuck-ever your damn betrothed is!"

Vincent, his eyes glinting with unmistakable malice, just smiled… Something Beetlejuice couldn't remember the guy doing much, in the time he'd known him. And it was the kind of smile that gave a person the feeling that someone, somewhere, was already preparing his grave. "Then why did she agree to wear my ring?" He asked softly.

Now, Beetlejuice was a guy who pretty much always had some kind of smartass remark ready to greet any given situation… But for once, his bag of snide comebacks was coming up empty. He just, kind of stared.

It was in fact, Lydia who protested, albeit it weakly, with… "Vincent! I was twelve years old! How the hell was I supposed to know you were serious?" This breathed some life, so to speak, back into the shaken ghost, who felt like he had solid ground under his feet for about a second… Before it hit him, quite suddenly, that circumstances notwithstanding… She'd pretty much just admitted that either way, she _had_ agreed.

And apparently, Vincent was thinking pretty much the same thing, because he didn't look shaken in the least. "That being so," He agreed softly, his eyes changing for a brief moment as they flickered down to meet hers, "You cannot tell me the idea no longer appeals to you. Think of it!" He hurried on, before she could protest, "The time for tests is over with! Tell me I am not the man you desired me to be!"

The fact that Lydia hesitated, maybe just unable to find the right words to deny this, seemed enough motivation for him to press on. "Lydia, if you marry me, you will be princess of the neitherworld… This will be your home, with all mortal obligations _cancelled_. Do you understand? Not aging, not dying, but remaining young and beautiful forever, both as a resident of your world, and my own! Able to come and go as you please… Something that has never been allowed before you! Eternal life, dear Lydia, by the side of a man who places you before any other, and will stop at nothing in order to grant you every favor you could ever dream!"

Now, Lydia simply couldn't answer because he was just so damn vehement, his eyes positively burning with the words tumbling from his lips, clearly rehearsed many times over, as he made this desperate plea, one last final begging appeal, for her favor. Beetlejuice was silent too, but for other reasons. He couldn't give Lyds any of that shit, after all. Couldn't hand her anything she'd ever want, on a silver platter. Immortality, princessdom… Any chance he'd had of giving her stuff like that, had been given up a long time before.

Why the hell _would _she choose him?

"In addition," Vincent ventured now, when neither one of them offered protest, his voice far softer, "By marrying a legitimate heir of the royal family, you will be granted the powers of our blood, Lydia. Magics such as have never been possessed by any living being before you." A pause, his voice dropping even more, a man well aware that what he said now might make all the difference in the world to his happily ever after, "What does my cousin have to compare? Truthfully, my Lydia?"

A step towards her, his hand reaching to take hers, despite Beetlejuice still being locked onto her arm. "Will you… truly, refuse my offer?"

The sight of Vince's fingers closing around Lydia's hand, was all the motivation Beetlejuice needed to snap out of his momentary haze. Screw what he could and couldn't give the girl… Lyds was _his_, and no way in hell he was just standing aside while this spoiled, overgrown _kid_, took her away! "Get your goddamn hands off her!" He snarled, yanking Lyds away again, again hard enough for her to fall against his chest, where this time he held her with both hands. "She's mine, you fucking understand me?"

He didn't notice the living girl's face slowly suffusing with anger, only, in an act that seemed utterly suicidal, shoved his hand down the front of her poncho, before either one of them could react, and a moment later, yanked free the chain she hadn't taken off since she'd put it on. "See this?" He held up the slender band of gold between thumb and forefinger, his birthright pendant tumbling utterly ignored across the back of his hand. "This is _my_ ring, prince-arino, and not only did she start wearing it long before she met you, but if you'll take a look right here, she's _still_ fucking wearing it! So take your goddamn plans-!"

Much of what was said after this was lost on the goth girl in his arms, currently having the breath pretty much squeezed out of her body by the distracted poltergeist… But what she did see, with stark certainty, was the look of absolute, savage horror, on Prince Vincent's face. He too, was no longer paying attention to the other man, his eyes locked on Lydia's with a look of heartbreak, and betrayal. As if wearing Beetlejuice's ring all this time, somehow made everything that had happened between them, a lie.

Lydia made a small, miserable sound in the back of her throat, rather like someone gurgling their last breaths… And then she was swept with fury herself, caught in a tug of war between two super powerful ghosts who seemed determined to settle her future amongst themselves, neither one seeming to give a damn what _she_ thought of it.

"Argh, you are both _assholes!_" She roared, stepping down hard on Beetlejuice's instep, and when he let her go with a sound of pain and surprise, following it up with a swift, savage kick to his shin, before spinning, and advancing a step on the prince, like she intended to attack him next. Perhaps not surprisingly, Vincent took an alarmed step back, his eyes growing wary.

Beetlejuice didn't say a word as he stood there, watching the scene before him with glinting, insane eyes. Didn't protest his abuse, didn't offer a word in his own defense… Just sort of bared his teeth, and looked like as feral a thing as she'd ever seen, like a beaten dog that had long since learned to bite an offered hand, and expect nothing of mercy. It made her stomach twist, seeing that look on her best friend's face, and for a moment, she forgot about the other man completely.

He'd been rejected by his own family. Alone, aside from those he conned, or those who threatened him, since he was a child. For all she knew, she was the first friend the guy actually had. The first one to actually give a damn about him. But she'd never really given a second thought to all that, until that moment, when he suddenly looked as likely to turn on her next, as tear into the prince. And Lydia, god help her, took a step back, for the first time, truly afraid of the man she'd known damn well was more dangerous than he'd ever let on.

But beneath that fear was a deep twinge of sadness, making a soundless breath fall from her lips, as she reflected on just what kind of life could make a man have that kind of look in his eye. Like the only thing he'd ever had, worth anything, had just been snatched from his fingers. But it was there only a second, that glimpse into the unguarded part of Beetlejuice's soul, before a sneer swept across his lips to mask it, and something solid and cold fell across his eyes. "'Spected better from you, babes." He said softly, something in the words almost a surrender…

But whether it was just stubborn pride, or he actually had more faith in her than he was currently letting on, he still grabbed her by the arm again, this time with an almost delicate grasp, and tugged her against his body once more, his arms a solid barrier between her, and the guy trying to steal her away. "She don't want me, fine." Beetlejuice growled, though nothing in his hostility transferred to the way he held her. "But you ain't getting her either. See, I know how it works too, Royal. She wears my ring, you can't do shit without my blessing. So fuck off."

All so matter-of-factly that it made her blood run cold. His hand, which currently might as well have been ice, pressed against the bare skin between shirt and jeans, with a sense of possession that could have belonged to Death himself. It was like being held by a stranger, with her best friend's face and voice.

And suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to get away, to escape. To just deal with this when she was stronger. With a sound remarkably like a sob, she twisted in his grasp, laying her cheek briefly against his shoulder, and making him relax his grip ever so slightly in surprise, before pulling free, turning her gaze to the forgotten pretty things that had fallen broken at her feet, and in a coarse whisper, rasped desperately, "Home, home, home!"

And to the surprise of both ghosts there, she was gone.

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Prince Vince rarely did anything so vulgar as to _storm _anywhere… It was as out of character for him to do that, as it would be to skulk. A man with power didn't need to rely on shows of useless anger to get his point across. This was part of the reason he left the miserable poltergeist standing pointlessly in his garden, staring at the place where the object of both their affections had been standing only moments before. He didn't spare so much as a word for him.

This was also why, when he did storm into his castle, it wasn't with stomping feet, curses, or angry, violent motions. Rather, he flowed into the stone halls like the coming of night, shadows wisping away from their various hiding places beneath grotesque statues and torn tapestries, roiling about him with the force of the fury and frustration currently pounding through the prince's soul. When he stormed, it wasn't a display of anger, it was, literally, a warning of dangerous weather to come…

Thunder cracked with stone shattering force off the high walls of the main hall, sparks of energy crackling with a life of their own from metal surface to metal surface, like lightning set free to act by its own will… Following his progress deeper into the palace. His footfalls, in contrast, connected silently with the now slick floor, suddenly gathering moisture from the rapidly changing temperatures around him. And everyone with any sense at all, found somewhere far away to be, rather than face the brunt of Prince Vince's dangerous mood.

Nothing alive could have moved with the grace he did. Not a panther. Not even a serpent. Flowing like a force of nature through the castle, even the small scurrying things scrambling away at the sense of his power, flowing around him like a living thing. He was a hunter. A predator. And he was intent on his prey, never mind that she wasn't currently present. She was the only thing that meant anything to him. The only thing that made him feel alive. The only one who had ever _cared_.

And he _would_ have her.

Prince Vince moved with a purpose through the high, twisting corridors, paying no mind to the antiques he'd taken such pains to restore to perfection, in anticipation of his bride to be. Carpets that had faded and stained, now displayed colors as vibrant as when they were new. Wood was polished to a dark, perfect sheen. Armor shone in rich bronzes, irons, and shades of black. Weapons that hung along the wall for ornamentation, were sharp enough to kill the already dead.

And tapestries, left unmended for the sake of a casual comment she'd once made, on how beautiful they looked just as they were, had still been spotlessly cleaned. He'd made a paradise for her. He offered her the world she loved on a silver chain. And now, all that risked being ripped away… _His _forever, with _his_ true love.

He would not stand for it.

The rich blood-black wooden doors flew open of their own accord, too heavy for any man to move alone, ushering him into the rich velvets and silken shadows beyond… What was to be _their_ chamber, once they were wed. In here, his movements slowed, just a trace. His gaze deepened, finally focusing on his surroundings… And he paused, by the nightstand which had stood beside his bed for as long as he could remember, unadorned, save for a single picture in a gilded frame.

"My Lydia…" He whispered, his fingertips a breath away from the image, the girl clad in a dress of veiled spider webs, a royal crown tucked lovingly amongst her ebony locks. He'd stolen the picture from her mother that night… Needed it, far more than that living woman ever could. Lydia, worried… Him, nothing but a twisting hue of light. He'd kept her secret that night. Despite defying everything he'd been raised to believe. So many times, he'd defied what he knew, for her. Didn't that prove what he would do for her now, if she just asked him?

Slowly he drew his hand back, and turned to the side, his expression hardening again as he considered a dark crimson curtain, not ten feet to the side of his bed. With a sweep of his hand, it was pulled aside, to reveal the sheen of polished silvered glass beyond… And within, her image again. Older. Leaned over her bed, her face obscured in the hair that clung wetly to her cheeks, utterly silent, her shoulders trembling. How many night of solitude had been endured, due to knowing that if he simply drew this curtain aside, _she_ would be there waiting…

A small shudder traced across his skin, and he closed his eyes, hardening himself to the sight of her pain, no matter how difficult it was. Going to her now would solve nothing. But something, someone, needed to be held accountable for what had happened back there. Someone needed to be blamed.

God knew he could never blame _her_…

Resigned to losing even this glimpse of her, he reached out before she could spy him in her own mirror, watching her, and tugged at the thick wooden frame, pulling it free from the wall, revealing an empty doorway, which exuded a dull green light, and spilling careless mists of new spectral energy forth. Juno. Juno would answer for this. She had to have known. If she hadn't, then she _should_ have.

There was a short hall, narrow, cramped… Not built for comfort, but function. Vince had never been one to dwell on trappings, no matter how many of them he offered the woman he loved. But he did stand, however minimally, on protocol. He would _not_ simply appear in her office.

But neither would he knock. Pressing the door at the end of the corridor open with the merest touch of his fingertips, he was encased in a brief sense of distortion, echoed in green and silver, before he found himself standing in the open doorway of Lydia's case worker. Juno, he noted, did not look happy to see him. Nor was she alone. Normally he'd dismiss the interruption, but just as he was readying to do so…

He recognized the intruders. In about the same moment they recognized him. Several thoughts passed through Prince Vince's mind, even before they had a chance to greet him, or protest his appearance, or whatever they intended to do… But the main three were these. Lydia's parents, all of them, had a great deal of influence over the girl. That was why she'd kept her secret for so long. Lydia's parents, also, had always seemed very fond of him. And lastly, but most importantly, Lydia's parents had managed to let themselves be deceived and manipulated by a twelve year old girl, for years, giving her exactly what she wanted.

He almost smiled. He didn't, but almost. Instead he tightened his lips, gaze a somber look towards Adam, who was currently protesting something in an angry voice… Ah, Lydia, too young to be married. Ridiculous, of course. But useful.

"I cannot agree, Mr. Maitland," He murmured, deferring to the man he normally wouldn't even be expected to acknowledge, "But then, I am not the one who made the addendum to her permission to stay. However…" A small pause, a narrowing of eye that just briefly revealed his venom, though too quickly for any of them to see, "I fear it had fallen out of my hands, now. It seems… she was never mine to ask."

Juno watched him, he saw from the corner of his eye, her face taut, well aware that he was stringing them along to dance for his purpose, though not yet sure why. For now though, she offered no warning, no reprimand… She couldn't afford to. The prince who had once been a figurehead, was well aware that these days, he held only a little less power than a god.

But it all meant nothing, without Lydia.

It took a moment for them to catch on, it was in fact, her birth mother who figured it out, her face growing a sickly pallor, her eyes becoming briefly unfocused. "Oh god…" She whispered, hoarsely, "Beetle… He, _he_ asked her?"

"Before I even met your daughter, it seems." He agreed quietly, granting a moment to allow the full perversion of the centuries' old man, propositioning a twelve year old girl, to sink in. "Or at least… That _is _how long she's been wearing his ring. Either way, binding, to our laws. She may not have known… Or she may have deceived me." A small, planned pause. "I would still defy the gods themselves to protect her, if she asked me to break his binding. But," His voice dropped slightly, this time in an unfeigned waver, "She, did not ask."

Silence fell. The weighty kind, that leaves a bristly feeling like heat prickles across even dead flesh. He held it in his hand, waiting. The first one to speak would be the one to decide the way this would be played. But he was content to let it be one of them.

"Still not sure we should have him exorcised?" Adam muttered, wiping his hand across his lips. It seemed to be a rhetorical question, however, and no one tried to answer it. Vincent's sharp eyes took in everything, even Juno's momentary unease. Did she really think that option had never occurred to him? Coming to her with his concerns had only been his second choice… The only thing protecting the damned poltergeist this long, was Lydia. Not ignorance.

But being underestimated was rarely something that worked against him.

He paid little attention to the way the conversation went after this, not because he didn't still plan on using their dislike of the man to his advantage, but because he finally noticed what he should have seen right away… Her father. Vincent hadn't even seen the man, standing in the back of Juno's office, utterly silent this far. But now he did. And for a moment, the way Edmond looked back at him, he had the disconcerting sense of being completely transparent in his intentions… And he remembered suddenly that Lydia's father never had really liked him. Even if this didn't explain the daggers he was staring him now.

"…can't believe you lied to us too!" Barbara was protesting now, clearly looking, like him, for someone, anyone, to be angry with. "And you knew she was with _him_! Don't tell me you didn't realize how dangerous he was! Vincent… we trusted you…"

For a moment, just briefly, he faltered. Only inside, of course. But the expression of Barbara's face was so open, so vulnerable and hurt, that it would have taken a man of stone, not to feel something. And Vince was not stone. "I'm sorry." He said at last, his voice genuinely regretful. "Lydia asked me not to tell… And I would have done anything for her. I still will." _Not would. _He noted grimly to himself. _Will__._

"Vincent…" Barbara looked like she wanted to argue, but at the same time, as if she really didn't have the heart to upset with him for letting her daughter sway him. "Lydia said you're the prince of the neitherworld. Can't you do something? Can't you _stop_ this? If you care about her…"

"I love her." Vince corrected softly, not even pausing to consider his reply. "More than anyone I've ever known." While she faltered at this, he pressed on. "I always have, and I've never tried to conceal it. Your daughter is worth more than the whole neitherworld to me… But no." A small, wry twisting of his lips. "There is nothing I can do. Not as long as she chooses him, over me."

Another silence, this one as painful as the last. Adam Maitland closed his eyes, almost wincing. "The secrets and lies aside," He said at last, his voice almost as uncomfortable as his expression, "Your being _dead_ aside, when she should be dating living men… She really isn't showing a lot of common sense here, is she? I think-"

"Nothing you can do?" Olivia rasped, seeming to grow in strength somehow, while the other two steadily wilted before him. "_Nothing?_"

This was of course, his opportunity. "I don't have the influence over her I once did," He denied, quietly, "No matter my feelings for her, she left me behind long ago." Not quite true of course, but this wasn't his first lie, and it wouldn't be his last. With Beetlejuice out of the way, she _would_ come back to him. If only because she had no other choice. It saddened him briefly, that it had to be that way… But he would do anything to keep from losing her. And in time… They had all eternity, after all…

"Royalty aside," He pressed on, not giving pause for his internal reflections, "I am… helpless, in this." He swore Juno actually looked briefly amused, and warned her silently to stay out of this. "But now that you have been made aware, it may be that you can do, what I cannot. I pray you do. Even if she never accepts my offer, in his stead… She deserves better than _him_."

"Agreed." Adam said quietly. "I'm sorry, Vincent. This has been hard on us all. But we never thought you might be going through something just as bad." A small pause, and he met the prince's gaze, a slight that Vince had, in the recent past, been known to be particularly harsh over, while establishing his position… Met his gaze as an _equal_. And Vince didn't give a damn. This was all for Lydia anyway… "We always did like you, Vincent. Maybe we can figure this out together."

"That would be, my fondest hope." Vincent agreed… Again, honestly. His fondest hope after all, was to make Lydia his princess… And this was, it seemed, the first step. "I never intended to take her from you, I want you to understand this. She would be part of both worlds, if… But I suppose…" And here he stopped, saying no more. Inwardly, he was satisfied. From her parents' expressions, he'd said enough.

Well, except for her father. He might be trouble. But Prince Vince had dealt with trouble before… And no one had stopped him yet. If the man became a problem, he'd deal with it.

"If there is anything I can do," He went on, turning his attention back to the other three, "Only ask." Glancing at the caseworker, "Juno. See that they can reach me, day or night. Lydia is given precedent before all else. Understood?"

"Yes, your highness." Juno agreed, a little dryly, almost as amused as disgusted by the way he was playing their strings. "Top priority. Got it. Anything else?" The woman was too flippant for her own good… But useful. "Maybe get them a direct line to the royal palace?"

"Immediately. To me, personally." He agreed, turning with this, and leaving. This _was_ not over. He worked too long, given up too much… He loved her more than anything. Lydia Deetz, _would _be his bride. And to hell with anyone who tried to stop it from happening.

Literally, if necessary.

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	7. Worth Waiting For

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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And with this chapter, we change the rating to an 'M…' Don't say you haven't been warned.

I really feel like I should wait another day or two to post this, see how it looks to me then, but as you guys keeps pointing out to me, you seem to love my stuff even when I don't, so… I guess I'll just bite down, and not make you wait. Thanks for being so great with my insecure self.

And please tell me I'm not OOC… Because that does drive me crazy with worry. Pretty much always. I think it's a writer thing, so... it'll probably never change.

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"Twelve years old, Adam!" Barbara fumed, her long dress gathered up in tight fists, so as not to impede her hard strides. "He asked her when she was twelve years old!"

It felt too much like a song he'd heard before. And for once, Adam not only had nothing but annoyance to offer his wife, but went through no pains to conceal it. "I know, Barb." He agreed, a bit tightly. "I was there when he told you." By contrast, Olivia and Edmond were almost taking it well… Admittedly, Olivia looked too overwhelmed to think, and Edmond rather lost in his own world, but still… Clearly it was up to him and Barbara to deal with this. _As if that was anything new_, he thought in a part of himself he didn't usually acknowledge, currently teeming with bitter feelings.

"I thought she was done lying to us!" Barbara went on, clearly not even hearing him, as they stopped at the doorway back to the house, her eyes flashing impatiently for it to open. She had a few things to say to her goddaughter… That is, presuming she was even back yet, from her little romp with a dead man… "More secrets, Adam! More deception! How are we ever supposed to trust-?"

"I know, Barbara!" He snapped, more than a little tersely, drawing the woman out of her frustration long enough to shoot him a cold look. They were standing quite uselessly at the door, as if none of them knew how to open it… Or maybe as if none of them were ready to face what waited on the other side. Again, if she even did.

Edmond moved through the group grimly, maybe just that much more eager to leave this place of the dead behind him than the rest, turned the knob without any further preliminaries, and stepped through, leaving them all standing there arguing. In fact, he said nothing further to any of them, just walking out of the attic, even before they walked into it, presumably with the intention of finding his daughter.

The rest of them went single file down the narrow stairs, suddenly silent, each with their own thoughts on how to approach this, Barbara first, Olivia last. And again, they paused before the door that led them to their daughter's room. Adam and Barb exchanged glances, then turned to consider Olivia, who was staring into the space before her like she could burn a hole through it, but otherwise without any discernable expression.

Adam turned, this bracing offered, and knocked lightly on Lydia's door. "Lydia? We need to talk." A pause, in which all of them waited for some kind of answer, only to have none offered. "Fine then, we're coming in."

His first impression was that Lydia was sitting on her bed, turned away from them- This was followed by the sweeping relief that she wasn't with _him_, at least for the moment- And then he realized what his wife saw just a moment sooner… Their daughter was crying. She didn't say a word, didn't even look up, but Barb still swept in with a little cry, throwing her arms around the girl, and pulling her in to her shoulder. "What did he _do_ to you?" She murmured, going from angry to tender in less time than it took to draw a breath. "Are you all right? Honey, what happened?"

"Men are assholes." Lydia whispered, her words barely audible, but filled with burning despair.

Adam shifted a little, not sure how to reply to this. "Um, maybe you two should field this one…" He muttered, not eager to give up the chance to let his opinion be known, but wise to the way of any woman who'd just made the statement his daughter had.

Lydia looked up sharply in surprise, black streaks running down her pretty pale face, and immediately looked guilty. "God, I didn't mean you, Adam…" She ran her hand across her cheek, bringing it away, sticky with black, smearing her meager makeup more. "I meant every _other_ man in existence…"

"Ah, okay." He gave what was supposed to be a sympathetic glance towards Edmond, who she also hadn't apparently noticed yet… Only to realize that the living man wasn't even there. Irritation crossed Adam's face, where the hell had _he _gone? Didn't he know he needed to be _there_? He glanced back at Lydia, still not sure how to pursue this. "Lydia, are you…? That is…?"

"I'm fine!" She muttered, finally managing to squirm her way free of the ghost woman's grasp. The way she said it of course, assured that she was anything but… "You want to help, just leave me alone, okay? I've had a shitty day."

"So we heard." Olivia noted quietly, still without any trace of emotion to her tone. Lydia gave her a quizzical look, and she met it with a sort of steadiness that normally only belonged to her husband and daughter. "Lydia… Vincent came to talk to us, while we were with Juno. He said…"

But Lydia's face had already contorted into a vision of twisted fury, and she slammed her hand down on the bed, solidly, lurching to her feet in the same moment, and almost falling… Though this didn't seem to set her off her step in the least. "Damn him!" She cried, as loud as her lungs would allow, the red thing she'd worn before, now wrapping her like a blanket, drowning her in its heavy folds. "Damn him! This is all his fault! This is-!"

She broke off with a sound of frustration, shaking her head, and kicked something on her floor, hard. Given that she rarely had a clean room though, it was difficult to see just what it was… Though apparently it was hard enough to make her wince. "God damn it…" She hissed, limping away from all of them, over to her mirror, "Can my day get any worse?"

"Maybe if you told us what happened…" Barbara began, only to be cut off, far more matter-of-factly, by Olivia.

"Vincent told us you were marrying him. _Him_. That… _thing_."

Lydia paused, her back still turned to them, then suddenly, started laughing. "Is that what he said?" She asked, between rather mad giggles. "He told you… Did he tell you he tricked me into wearing his ring, too?"

"Beetle-?" Adam began, not sure if he was more relieved than angry, before he cut off sharply, remember just in time not to say his full name.

"Beej?" The girl turned slowly, a gleam of pure spite in her eyes. "Hell, I was talking about Vince! It was supposed to be part of our Halloween costumes, but he shows up today, tells me it's legally binding! _Son-of-a-bitch_… And Beej? Then Beej…" And here she fell into laughter again, though not the somewhat mad hysterics of before. This time it was bitter, methodical. "Well, hell." She finished simply, not bothering to explain that any further.

A long pause, before quietly, "You're starting to scare us, Lydia." Barbara. That had to be Barbara. But he didn't really know for sure, too swept up in his own worries. "What's going on? Are you marrying…?" A hesitation, as she couldn't really bring herself to say the words.

Lydia smiled, a bit angrily, and considered the three of them, standing there. And where was her father in all this? She'd just now noticed he wasn't with them. She couldn't fool herself into believing it was because she had his approval though… No, more likely, the man who'd become increasingly distant over the past year, had just given up on her.

"Marry Beej?" She prompted after a moment, when no one else offered to say the words. "You know, he didn't even ask." A small smile, as she added, before they could press it, "Didn't _tell _me we were going to, either. Actually, I kind of got the feeling he was done with me…" Her insides roiled as she said this, like she'd eaten something spicy and bitter, and she smiled just a little too widely, at this part, "He just wanted to make sure Vince didn't get me either."

Clearly, no one knew how to answer this. None of them were sure whether to be upset for her sake, which was actually more generous than she'd expected, or just relieved. Olivia on the other hand, just looked dubious. "He doesn't give up on anything he wants, that easily." She warned with a frown.

"He gave up on you, didn't he?" Her daughter shot back flippantly. "Or wait, maybe that means he never wanted you after all!" Clearly, the way this was said, it was meant to be some sort of insult… But any sting it might have carried in the goth girl's mind, was completely lost on her mother.

"I should have been so lucky." Her mother countered, not the least put off. "But he obviously plans not to screw up his chances this time, or he wouldn't have wasted so much time on waiting for you to grow up."

It felt kind of like someone had hit her with something heavy and cold, right between her shoulder blades… hard. "That's not why he stayed." She denied, her voice, for its volume, suddenly very strong. "You don't know him. You don't know anything about him. He's my _friend_…"

"Your friend who asked you to marry him when you were still a pre-teen." Her mother countered, with eerily, almost the exact same tone of voice. "Of course he wasn't just using you because you were alive. I'm sure his reasons-"

"Where is he now?" Adam interrupted, seeing quickly that this could go nowhere good.

Not looking away from her mother, Lydia still made the visible effort to lower her hackles, turning the question over briefly in her mind before answering. "We got in a fight. I left him in the Neitherworld."

Barbara looked surprised. "You mean you were able to get back without him?"

Reflecting briefly that she'd already done that once before, in full view of her godparents no less, Lydia finally turned from her mom, and considered what appeared to be her wall, avoiding any further confrontation. "Funny, isn't it?" Her anger had, at the arrival of her parents, pretty much peaked, and now drained, leaving her more or less exhausted. "He needs me to get in and out, but I come and go as I please, and I don't even have powers." A moment of quiet followed this, as she reflected miserably that she wouldn't be doing that anymore… "Doesn't matter. He'll demand to be let out when he's ready."

Of course, that might be the last time she saw him… No, she couldn't think that. Damn it, no matter how frustrated she was with the world, she just couldn't think of it without him in it anymore. She turned from where she was staring with great purpose at nothing at all, and walked to her desk- Damn it, a present from Vincent- And sat down.

"Look, I know everyone says this at some point to their parents…" She noted quietly, "But you know you guys ruined my life, right? Okay," Her hand lifted, resting across the smooth wood with a flaring of her fingers, "Maybe not by yourselves, but you did contribute significantly."

"Now, I'm about to lose the place that I pretty much grew up in," She went on, when no one spoke up to interrupt her, "We're talking the clubs I liked to visit, the friends I made, the places I liked to eat… The stores where I bought pretty much everything I wear, and all the out-of-this-world places that blew my mind to visit. So far, the only way I can keep it is to marry this guy I don't even know anymore… He's pretty much a stranger to me, the way he is now…" _A damn sexy stranger… _"And even though he's the only one who's offered, there's no way in hell I'm gonna accept."

"Then we got Beej…" Her voice, rather than faltering, grew stronger, and she smiled at no one at all, going on just as Barbara started to interrupt, with, "And you should know right now, if he's even talking to me anymore, that I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep him from walking out of my life. And we are talking levels of '_anything_' that may involve special toys, or breaking laws. Or _both_." A muffled sound of horror from behind, and she went on without pause, "So since I know damn well you just don't get how much he fucking means to me… I think you should get out of my room, and leave me alone. Okay?"

"Lydia Deetz," Her mother whispered, after a long pause, "If you think you can just tell us to go away, and let you ruin your life…"

The goth girl's hand came down on her desk, hard, with a resounding crack. "If you don't get out of my room, _right now_, I'm going to end up breaking my promise to Juno, and _banishing_ all three of you… _got it_? Because I am not letting _you_ ruin my life! If anyone's going to ruin it, it's going to be me! It's _my_ life to ruin if I _want _to!"

She swore she could hear Barbara and Adam taking nervous steps backs, but her mother actually started forward, probably figuring that still being alive, she was immune to her daughter's threats. Before she could say anything though… A few harshly spoken whispers behind her, indiscernible to her, seemed to give her pause.

A moment later, with what was certain to be a scathing look in her daughter's direction, the three left, together, and the door closed behind them. Lydia didn't feel relieved, or angry, or anything anymore.

No, that wasn't true. She felt… regret. Guilt. Grief… She reached into her poncho, where she'd hastily tucked the gifts Beetlejuice had given her, on her parents' arrival, and drew them free now. The metal was cold, with that unique ghostly chill of special neitherworld things. It was also, so light. Far too light to represent something so important. Comforting and painful, against the bare skin of her palm.

"Beej…" She whispered, tightening her grip on the pretty things, and bowing her head until her black hair flowed across the smooth surface of the desk. "I'm sorry…" She wasn't crying anymore. She'd never used to cry this much anyway. But she'd never had anything before, she'd been this afraid to lose.

"I'm so sorry…"

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"Neitherworld shit." Beetlejuice muttered under his breath, staring at the dirty, oily-looking liquid in his glass, as if he were being forced to drink it, rather than scraping up his last few coins to buy more. Coins he'd intended to use on a present for Lydia. But the hell with that now, right? Probably didn't want to ever see his ass again, anyway…

It burned like some kind of poison going down- probably was, in fact- and made even the poltergeist's eyes water briefly as he breathed hard through his nose, to counteract the effects. Still he downed the eight inch glass in something like three gulps. The idea of neitherworld liquor wasn't so much to get a person drunk, as it was to inflict enough pain on the way down, to make a guy forget what was bothering him. Unfortunately, that's about as long as the effect lasted… The time it took to get down.

With a growl, he slammed the glass back onto the bar top, and demanded more, in an alcohol burned rasp. "Not unless you got more money." The thin, wheezy looking man behind the bar, denied in an odd bass voice. "You been sucking down those drinks for over an hour… And your credit's shit here anyway, Beetle-ass. Pay up front, or get out."

Beetlejuice glowered at him. It slipped his mind from time to time, that the rest of the world treated him like shit… Lyds always acted decent to him. No one was as good to him as she was. Never had been. _Damn it, if I don't get this shit sorted out, it's gonna kill me._ He shoved the glass away, and got unsteadily to his feet… Again, not from drink, but because he'd been sitting on the squat, hard stool so long. "Fuck you anyway," He muttered, pretending the bartender actually gave a damn, "I'll go get some real world shit. Keep your demon piss."

"Good luck with that." The deep voice dismissed him, with a twist of humor. Well aware, as the whole fucking neitherworld seemed to be, that he couldn't do anything without someone to call him through.

But whatever else had gone down that day, the girl was still geised to him, and she damn _well _better let him out. He was a little surprised to emerge into the world beyond the bar, and find it dark… But if he had to, he'd wake her up, for this. Might as well get it out of the way anyway, finding out if he even had power over the girl now anymore…

"Wonder if she hates me…" He muttered, squinting at the half eaten moon in the purple lined sky. "Nah, no fucking way… I've given her plenty of reasons to hate my guts before now…" This was Lyds after all. She couldn't stay pissed at him if she wanted to. Hell if he knew why…

Wait, this was _her_ fault! What was he doing, thinking he'd done something wrong? "Son-of-a-bitching, damn-royal-piss-ass…" He muttered under his breath, still somehow more willing to blame the prince than his babes. "Shove a red-hot beetle up his tight…"

He stopped at a display window, squinted at it, and pondered for a moment if there was enough light for him to catch a reflection in the glass. Scowling, he reached out and ran his hand across the pane, brushing it with his energy… His pale, distorted image shifted, changed, and became Lydia's room. It was kind of faint, but… _What the hell? Where is she?_

"Where the hell are you?" He growled, slamming his hand against the glass in frustration… Hard enough for cracks to spread with a sharp sound, not across the store window, but the girl's mirror it was currently connected to. "Babes! Let me the hell out!"

A sharp sound of surprise, and a movement to the side of his vision… Lyds, yanking to her feet so fast she almost fell, and standing, wavering, before her dresser. She must have fallen asleep at her desk… Her make-up was smeared like shit across her face, her hair stuck in every direction, and her dark sweet eyes blinked in bafflement, as if she'd just woken up. She also had what looked like a button stuck to her forehead, which she wiped away a moment later, not even seeming aware of it.

"Beej?" She sounded… relieved, and managed a shaky smile, running her fingers loosely across her marked up face, and drawing them away black. "Where have you been?"

"Where have I been?" He snapped, not ready to forgive and forget quite as quickly as she seemed to be. "I've been pouring liquid shit down my throat for the last half dozen hours, trying to get the image of you locking lips with his royal lowness out of my mind!"

Lydia blinked, and then her eyes grew heavy, his lips pressing together unhappily. "Damn it, Beej… He surprised me." She ran her fingers through her hair, leaned forward on the wooden surface a little, and looked at him with a positively haunted gaze, murmuring, "It took my breath away, I didn't mean…"

"Goddamn it…" He hissed, slamming his hand against the glass again, hard enough for more spider webs to spread across the surface. "You think I want to hear that shit, babes?"

"He used his magic!" She snapped, suddenly looking defensive, frustrated. "Same as you do, and…" Here though, just as abruptly, her anger was swept away in a breath, and she closed her eyes, whispering, "I'm _sorry,_ Beej. I was trying to leave… He surprised me, and I was stupid… What do you want from me? I don't _want_ him. And you showed up, and started acting like an ass…"

"Okay," He interrupted with a grumble, trying to be angry himself, and finding it more difficult than he'd expected, "You almost had me until that last part. Aren't you supposed to be apologizing here?"

"That doesn't mean you weren't an ass." She pointed out, lifting her head again, just a trace of a smile gracing her tired features. "Damn, Beej… I've been waiting for you to show up for hours. I was starting to think you weren't coming back…" And there, just the slightest falter of her tone hit him like something sharp through his gut. "And my parents are the last people I want to talk to…" She went on, not that he was listening anymore.

Beetlejuice frowned, just a little. "You mean you been sitting around here the whole day, by yourself?" His gears tried to click into motion, but after about ten seconds of trying to find a way to use this to his advantage, his ever perverted brain managed to fail him. "Hell, just call me through, babes. I still need a drink." His forehead leaned briefly against the glass, and he gave her a halfhearted smirk. "Wanna join me?"

She made a little sound, once more, amusement or exasperation he couldn't tell, then murmured his name, calling him through… And before he could really process it, he was on the other side of the reflection, and pretty much nose to nose with his babes. Interestingly enough, she made no move to back away. Instead she just, folded against him, with a sigh… Though only about for as long as it took him to start putting his arms around her.

Then she drew back, and hit him in the shoulder with a frown. "Don't scare me like that again." She muttered, drawing away with a twist of annoyance to her lips, making him cackle softly, and tilt his head to get a better look at her. Girl went a mess like this over him? Kinda made her cute…

Snagging her around the waist, he ignored her muffled sound of annoyance, burying his face in her soft hair, smelling of sweat and salt, and faded scents of shampoo, his teeth unerringly seeking the softness of her throat. "We making up now, babes?" He murmured slyly, not one to waste an advantage when he saw one, already sliding his touch up under her loose-fitting top.

Almost surprisingly, she didn't protest, sighing softly instead… and not her usual, 'god, you're annoying, Beej,' sigh either. This was almost a, 'damn, that feels good,' kind of sigh. She tucked her small frame against his wide front, tipping her head to the side to rest in the groove of his throat, and sighed again. This time he had no idea what she meant, but was enjoying the taste of her soft skin too much to complain. "Can we pretend today never happened?" She asked quietly, the words barely registering in the otherwise occupied poltergeist's mind.

"Babes, I'm still working on tonight…" He murmured into the silky curve of her shoulder, his uneven teeth nipping the tender skin there until she squirmed, and made a sound almost like a laugh. Still she caught his hands, just wrapping them around her middle, hugging one across her chest, and tipped her head back far enough to catch his gaze. He gave a little grunt of question. "Make it quick, babes… I'm working on something here!"

"I'm well aware of that." She murmured, nothing but softness to the set of her lips, or the warmth of her gaze. "Beej, what are we going to do? My parents, the prince… And my birthday. I won't be able to go to the neitherworld with you anymore. I'll never see all my friends there again. Never eat eye scream. Never watch a really gory movie on a wide scream with you again."

There it was. The opportunity to ask the question he _should_ have fucking asked before this whole damn day began. And when he tried to say something suave about how she shouldn't worry her dark little head, or slide in a suggestion that would just fix _everything_… He swore he tasted blood in his mouth. It surprised him a little, the awareness of pain that followed this. Damn, he'd bit the shit out of his tongue… He considered the girl in his arms, his warped soul twisted around her little finger, and hated himself briefly, for trying to con even his own babes into marrying him… No, not for some shit like this. She would _not_ wake up some day, and hate him, for being selfish now.

And the idea of having the pretty little piece of living flesh in his arms as _his_, twisted about his brain mockingly for about another five seconds, before he let it go. Lyds was worth more than that. And he knew damn well she wasn't ready to make that decision. He'd settle for seeing if he could talk his way into her panties instead… At least for now. Hell, a ghost was entitled to change his mind, right?

"Place is shit anyway, babes." He denied, just like he meant it, showing every tooth in a grin. "You ain't even seen this world yet… You got your whole afterlife to hang around that dump! Now come on, we're wasting perfectly good alone time here…" He snagged his arm around her back, gave her his most perverted leer, and noted matter-of-factly, "Come on, Lyds… Don't know when we're gonna get this chance again, right?"

Lydia laughed softly. "Beej, are you even looking at me? I'm a total mess… How can you even think about…?"

"Hell babes, that's _all_ I think about! Do you realize how long you been teasing me with that cute little ass now?" But he was grinning as he squeezed said ass, even while resigning himself to another night of listening to her get off in her dreams, instead of with him. "At least wear that skimpy little thing you know I love… Come on Lyds, don't make me beg…" He gave her his best puppy dog eyes. Normally he wouldn't give up so easy, but the girl was probably too tired to have any fun tonight anyway…

But Lydia just shook her head, still smiling, and then, before he could protest this dismissal as well… Reached up on her tippy toes, hooked him around the back of the neck, and pulled him down to meet her lips. She tasted like tears and ashes, and he honestly didn't give a damn, because her tongue was like warm silk against his lips, and her body was pressing hard enough against him that he could feel every curve, nook and cranny… And damn if it wasn't driving him crazy.

"Where can we go?" She whispered, as she broke the kiss, her words a warm, tickling breath against his ear. His wheels spun in place more or less uselessly for about a minute there, until she took a step back, grabbed the bottom of her shirt, and twisted it off over her shoulders. Then he just stared, until it hit him, hard. Well hell, she didn't have to ask him twice!

_You're an ass, Beetlejuice,_ some part of his mind, which currently had about as much hold of his interest as the broken mirror behind him, _you know damn well she's just trying to hold onto you… This is Lyds, and…_

"So shut up, and hold on." He muttered, more to the voice in his head, than the girl… Though he forgot said voice completely, when she did just this. She was saying something about whether there was anywhere her parents couldn't call him away… And damn if that didn't make sense to him too. "Just one, babes…" He murmured, exploring the flesh she'd offered with hungry fingers, even as his other hand held her hard against him, like she might slip away. "You ain't scared of the dark, right?"

And then they were moving away from the room, away from Winter River, away from the whole damn world… Through twisting space of frozen lights and crystalline fire, before it all swept away, and left them clad in utter blackness.

She was still soft against him through, even in that place that didn't have shit to stand on, or any trace of warmth beyond her own living body. He wouldn't have even swore there was air for her to breathe… And yet she did breathe, softly in the darkness, not letting go, apparently completely unafraid of anything the eclipsing shadows might hide.

That was his babes after all, running into the dark with head held high, and a grin on her face. He wasn't about to leave her in the dark for long though… He wanted to see what he was doing, though he knew damn well he could manage by touch alone. A man didn't get to enjoy a sight like this everyday though… Well, actually he hoped he would. His whole body already felt hot from her meager warmth, and he swore he couldn't breathe, even if he didn't actually need to. She felt like a burning brand pressed against him, tugging away his heavy coat, her lips scorching against his skin…

"Hold on, Lyds." He managed in a rasp. He could have sworn his dead heart was pounding away inside him, as he made a brief gesture with his hand, suddenly surrounding them in dozens of unsupported candlesticks, each gleaming away only half a dozen inches or so of light in the thick blackness.

She looked around, and distracted, pushed away a little, considering that there really was _nothing_ there. "Where are we…?" She whispered, clearly impressed… briefly. This was followed quickly though, by, "Are those my candles? You're the one who stole-! Urmph…" For he was kissing her again, this time directing his energy without reservation through her mortal body, making her whimper as she sought his mouth back, desperately. "Damn you…"

He took his time. Hell knew he wanted to just rip the girl's clothes off, and make her squeal, but he'd waited too fucking long for this, not to make damn sure she had a good time. He had every intention of convincing the girl that this should be a regular thing… And for that, if nothing else in the whole damn world, he could be patient.

_You'll make this up to me later, babes…_ He thought with a smirk, his tongue lightly tracing the slender lines of her stomach, playing his calloused fingers across her creamy thighs, enjoying as her pale flesh flushed more and more with red, and her breaths came shorter and faster. She looked confused, not objecting to any of his plyings, but admittedly looking nervous, as hard as she tried to conceal it. He snickered, and returned her attention to her lips, not _giving_ her a chance to change her mind. He hurt for her, wanted her so bad he thought he'd break, but he clenched his jaw, gave a mad little grin, and waited as she slowly started to return his deft caress, her touch tentative, light, uncertain… But slowly becoming more bold.

When he pretty much just couldn't take it anymore, he pushed himself up from her a little, gave her a lopsided grin, and murmured, "You ready for me, babes?"

Lydia's breath caught, just a little, and something approaching sense peered through the hazy euphoria filling her eyes… And she looked uneasy. Damn, maybe he shouldn't have said anything… "Don't laugh," She frowned, looking oddly ready to be angry, "But… I'm a little scared, Beej."

Hmm. He leaned back over her, his arm cupping her body against his, and his lips sought the place between her eyes, tenderly. "S'just me, Lyds. I know damn well you ain't scared of me." A brief pause, as her fingers twined slowly through his hair, and she relaxed beneath him again. "Good girl…"

The feel of her, as he finally surrendered to _his_ needs, made him freeze briefly in surprise. Maybe it had just been too long since he'd been laid, maybe it was just Lyds… But he swore he'd never felt anyone fit him so perfectly before. She made a small sound under him, he couldn't tell if it was pain, but he held himself there, still, giving her a chance to get used to the feel of him too. And he gritted his teeth, hard enough to chip them.

Then, slowly, moving against her. Moving _into _her. Feeling that hot bare flesh against his cold lifeless body. Hearing her make those soft sounds he couldn't figure out, even as she still didn't resist, reaching her arms around his shoulders, her fingertips trembling where they lay lightly against his skin. And when she whispered his name, that little pet name she'd given him soft long ago, her voice filled with need, he almost lost it then and there.

But he was the ghost with the most, damn it, and he was going to enjoy this as long as his body could hold out… Lyds would give out first, he thought with a grunt, and a little twist of smugness to his mouth. "Like that, babes?" He murmured, his lips touching some soft, curved part of her, his tongue darting out against the salty hot taste of her skin. "Want more?"

"B- Beej…" She whispered, her grasp around his shoulders strengthening, this time pulling him to her. "Shit… Don't stop…" A small sound that might have been pleasure or pain, as her teeth bit into his arm, hard, briefly, and she shuddered beneath him. "Damn it, Beej… Don't let go…" An odd whimper, as something hot and wet fell against his skin, as she brushed her face against the place she'd bit a moment before. "Promise?"

For just about the length of a heartbeat he didn't have, Beetlejuice felt something like guilt… He was taking advantage of her. He'd known damn well he was, before he ever started. But hell, he wasn't a goddamn saint! And _damn _she felt good… And there was no fucking way he was letting her go now! She was his, that was it, and he'd do anything to keep it that way.

"Promise, Lyds." He murmured, wondering even as he did, just what that meant. He honestly didn't know himself… He'd never expected any of this shit, before he met her.

She answered with something quiet, something he couldn't quite hear, whispered in a breath against his skin. It sounded a little like, '_I love you_…' but if she'd said it like that, she must not have wanted him to hear anyway.

So damn if he knew why, in some part of his mind not presently occupied with making her moan, he heard himself whispering back, _'God damn it, Lyds… I've __always__ loved you…' _This night might have been for all the wrong reasons, but he'd be damned if he didn't make everything right for her when this was done…

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	8. Odd Truces

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story_, __is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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I love my niece. Not just because she's my niece, no... Because whenever she comes over, the first words out of her mouth are, "Can we watch Beetlejuice?" (Mostly the cartoon, but ocassionally she begs to watch scenes from the movie.) And that is so infinitely much better than, "Can we watch my Barbie movie?" Or, "I wanna watch Dora the Explorer!" She is, for the record, going on four. I think I've done my part to help her start out right...

Are you guys gonna hate me if I don't reply to all my reviews? Because I am way behind and... As much as I love you people for reviewing, I have my hands full right now with just getting the chapters up, so... :puppy eyes: Think you can forgive me?

And, um, not stop reviewing?

Btw? Her reaction to the scene in the movie where Beetlejuice gets eaten by the sandworm? "Aw. Now he can't get married." Did I mention I love my niece?

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It didn't look anything like the bars in the movies. The lack of smoke in the air, maybe. No doubt due to the no smoking signs hung with some frequency around the otherwise unadorned brick room. The floor was clean, spotless even. Everything was very neat. Each tumbler in its place. Each chair, when not in use, pressed tight to its table. It was all pretty orderly.

Likewise, the place lacked the clichés that a guy might have come to expect, watching the movie channel, or old westerns… As he was known to. Obviously, no gunslingers, but nobody in a leather jacket either, or for that matter, red flannel with ripped off sleeves. And nobody spoke very loudly. There were a few drunks, not to mention a few people looking for a good time, but they more or less either kept to themselves, or knew exactly who to approach, and made little fuss about it.

And Edmond had, more and more over the course of the last few hours, come to utterly despise the place… Not that he was really aware of something as mundane as the passage of time. At the moment, he wasn't even sure he really was in the low-key tavern, and not trapped back in that unholy waiting room, waiting to hear the verdict over the fate of his daughter's soul. Every so often in fact, he'd startle, just a little, and look around himself frantically, to make sure he really had gotten out, and it wasn't just a dream.

"Hey." Someone before him, one of the bartenders he'd spent far too much time with over the last year, despite never having learned his name, tapped on the bar before him with two knuckles, drawing the man's attention back sharply to himself. The old man's face was lined with creases of gentle worry from times gone, completely contradicting his current, indifferent expression. "We close in ten minutes, buddy."

Ten minutes? Edmond stared at him, then looked at his glass, which was only half empty. That meant it was almost two in the morning… If he'd actually spent his whole time here drinking, rather than staring into space most of it, he would have drunk himself to death by now… The irony of which was not entirely lost on him.

He continued staring at his scotch, the ice cubes long melted, the clear liquid little distinguishable now from lukewarm water. His lips pressed into a thin line. His brow furrowed. Ten minutes. That was plenty of time. He went over it again, from beginning to end… Everything that had happened from the moment they stepped through that odd brick door in the attic, and entered a world just not meant for the living. It had seemed, surreal, horrible. The whole time, it felt like he couldn't really breathe… And certainly most of what had happened, was lost on his fear-struck mind. But now? He must have gone over it a hundred times.

Was that really what was waiting? He'd never been a religious man, at least not since he'd given up the family he was born to, to marry the woman he loved. The woman his parents would rather give up their only son, than approve. But the thought that the place he'd seen a glimpse into that day, rather than some place of paradise or damnation, was what awaited, made a sour-slick feeling rise in the back of his throat. And he was pretty sure it wasn't just the booze. Reward, punishment… Those were easy to understand. But just existing? With no higher power that gave a damn either way, beyond someone who shoved a few forms at him?

The fact of the matter was, he'd deliberately never put too much thought into it before. As if Adam and Barbara, his wife's two best friends, were little more than eccentric relatives who'd decided to live with them… Granted, relatives no one else could see, but not particularly out of the ordinary. Taken their restrictions and abilities as just part of their 'eccentricity.' Even as he shied away from the idea of their actual death, of death at all, as much as he could. And at first, it had been easy… He'd even thought of them as family. They were nice people, after all. They helped out a lot with Lydia. Took care of most of the chores. Made living with the strangeness of them, relatively easy.

So maybe he didn't have an excuse, for the way he'd started to feel about them, as time passed. Like they just, weren't _right_. Like they shouldn't be there. Didn't even understand himself why, almost a year before, he'd lain such a stark line between himself and the Maitlands, and in the process, probably lost his chance with the only woman he'd ever loved.

The fact was, he didn't even blame her for the way she'd reacted… Not really. He'd acted like a bigot. He knew it. And the thing was, he hated bigots. But realizing that fact, wouldn't bring Olivia back into his arms, or undo the damage he'd done with her friends. He didn't get a chance to do it over.

And Lydia… Somehow, the knowledge that he'd actually been losing his daughter for years now, just couldn't strike him as strange. She seemed well adjusted, happy, almost bordering on normal… Had he really ever believed that was their work? It wasn't entirely surprising, to him, to find out someone had been taking care of the girl from the shadows all this time…

Edmond took his watered-down drink, lifted it to his lips, and ignored the way it tasted on the way down. He was drunk, that couldn't be denied. Maybe drunker than he'd ever been in his life. Which didn't explain why everything suddenly seemed so clear to him. His own failing as a father, as a husband. The recognition of his fear, and of the fact that Lydia…

Well, she was lost to him, wasn't she? Or at least she was, if he made the mistakes again, that had driven his wife from him. In the end, he didn't see the poltergeist as really being that different from the Maitlands, despite all the stories… Just someone he had to learn to accept, for the sake of his family. He'd be damned if he drove his daughter any further away. He could learn to live with almost anything, as long as he didn't lose the only person he had left.

He was tired of burning bridges… He was running out of places to go.

"That's it, Deetz." A soft voice interrupted his morose thoughts, making him turn in surprise to the young woman, with a tired smile on her face. "You're the last one, everybody else has cleared out. Now, this is when the boss usually gives that line, about not having to go home, but not staying here… But _go home_. Okay?"

Edmond watched her go, trying to place the girl, who he was certain he'd seen before, in other settings. Maybe back when he was younger, still in school, or even still living with his family. A whole other life that was gone to him now. But the girl was right. He did need to go home. He hadn't even stayed to find out what had happened to Lydia.

His first effort to get to his feet, left him with the room spinning in a swirl of colors too gaudy and eye burning to be real… But after only a moment, this settled away, and with a grimace, he set out the door, into the bitter night wind beyond. December in Winter River… At least he'd grabbed a coat before he left.

Much of the journey home was lost in flurries of white, gusts of nerve biting chill, and momentary lapses of forgetting why he was out in either one… But eventually, he made it as far as the bridge, and sagged briefly against the old wood, eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion, as he rubbed stiff fingers across numb cheeks. He'd just stay there for a minute. Just to get out of the wind.

Thoughts, of all odd things, of Beetlejuice drifted up in his head. Maybe not that odd, considering that one guy had said his daughter might be marrying the ghost… But that wasn't what he was thinking of now.

It seemed like such an utterly bizarre act of, what, kindness? The way he'd offered him a cigarette in that damned place. Granted, he didn't smoke, hadn't since high school, but that didn't change the fact that it was the most human gesture that anyone had offered him in a good long time now. This being of course, the same poltergeist he'd caught straddling his wife in the back yard, only a handful of years before…

Being drunk was not helping his already fuzzy thoughts make more sense, however, so after a moment of standing there, feeling like his eyes were ready to freeze in their sockets, he set off into the flurry of white again. He was almost home. Home? God only knew what he was going to do when he got there… Pass out on the couch, more than likely, and suffer horrendously tomorrow for his drinking tonight.

_Probably won't even let me sleep in_, he thought sourly, reflecting on how much his wife had changed in the last months. Unless of course, she hadn't actually changed at all. He wasn't sure anymore.

The house loomed up, like some haunted mansion from a child's story, if better preserved, and he smiled at the sight, grateful, for once, to be returning to the place that had claimed so much of his life. Already he was thinking ahead to the warm quilt they'd bought a couple winters before, maybe some hot tea… The couch looked like paradise from where he was standing, there in the snow.

But as he stood before the door to his salvation, reaching for his key, he found his pockets bafflingly empty. He searched them all, pants, coat, even shirt, only to find no trace of the needed metal sliver… And he stood there, foolishly, wondering if he should knock to be let in. Everyone would be sleeping by now, more than likely. He did not welcome the greeting he'd get from his wife, coming home at two in the morning, drunk, waking her up to be let in.

His fingers, clumsy wooden blocks by this point, tried to rub the place between his eyebrows, and found they couldn't feel anything at all anymore. He probably couldn't have used the key if he had it. He wondered briefly where it was… Then reflected that it didn't really matter.

He needed to get in the house. He'd die out here. But some stubborn part of his brain was needling at him, that dying would be better than facing Olivia like this. He leaned against the doorframe, closed his eyes, and wondered, briefly, if, at that, dying wouldn't just solve everything…

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Beetlejuice yawned, drawing on his mug of appropriated scotch from the Deetz's liquor cabinet, and scratched the back of his head wearily. Hell if he knew why he couldn't sleep. The girl had fallen out after only a few minutes, and him? He'd lain there, watching her dream, for the better part of the night, before he got it in his head to get up, and find something to do.

Now that he'd gotten what he wanted, he was, inexplicably to the poltergeist, tearing himself apart over it. Not that it hadn't been good… Hell, he wasn't sure Lyds wasn't the best he'd ever had… But what had started out as a twinge of guilt for taking advantage of her, had become a full blown headache.

There'd always been that part of him, as long as he could remember knowing the girl, that had set her apart from the way he used and discarded the rest of the world. That little annoying nudge, always ready to whisper, _That's Lyds, she deserves better_… But for fuck's sake, it had been _mutual_, and he knew damn well that the girl had had a good time!

And then there was that moment of letting his guard down, when he'd said what he'd said to her… About loving her. About _always _loving her. How the hell did that work, anyway? She'd been a kid… No way he'd been in love with her then! So why did he get the feeling now, that all this time, he'd just been waiting for her to grow up, so he could say those words? Like maybe he'd felt that way all along, and couldn't get even his messed up mind to admit it?

It was wrong in a million ways, which normally he couldn't give a fuck about, mind, and the fact that he'd never acted on it, didn't even acknowledge it, didn't clear things up in his mind in the least. No, he hadn't wanted to jump her bones… She was just a kid. But _something_ had been there. Something had _always_ been there.

"Soul mates…" He muttered, drawing a cigarette from his pocket, and placing it between his lips, not yet lighting it. It was laughable of course, _soul mates, _the very idea was shit, and if anyone had said the words to him, he'd laugh to their face. But it wasn't the first time the thought had arisen. What had he once thought? _If only she were older…?_

Nah, he was being an idiot, buying into some kind of mystical mumbo jumbo… They were good together, that was the end of it. It didn't have to be more complicated than that. That was the problem with people, always trying to make things complicated… And as for loving Lyds? When he'd loved her as a kid, it was as a kid. Sure, he could admit to himself that he did. But it was different.

Damn girl, making him _feel _shit…

He had the lit match in his hand, when he paused, certain he'd heard a sound at the door. Frowning, he waited for it to be repeated, but it wasn't. He started towards the door… Then cursed, and shook his hand, as the match burned down to his fingers. Smirking at his own stupidity, he started to turn away… When the sound was repeated. Sort of, a low mutter. And hell if that was the wind.

More looking to pass the time, than any thought that there was actually something out there, Beetlejuice snapped his fingers, and the door unlocked, flying open of its own accord… And the poltergeist was surprised to see a dark, huddled shape on the other side of the frame, pressing into the wall to get out of the wind.

Squinting, Beetlejuice started towards the door, ready to spook the intruder, only to realize that the man currently standing out in what looked like a building storm, was his girl's old man. "Shit…" He muttered, getting a good look at the guy, who didn't yet seem to realize that the way into the warmth was unbarred. "What the hell are you doing out there, Chuck? You're gonna freeze your damn balls off!"

Edmond- yeah, he remembered the guy's real name- opened his eyes, and looked at him blearily. Either he was really out of it from the cold, or he was really, _really_ drunk. Beetlejuice grunted, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him inside, knocking the door shut behind him. "You look like hell, man. What the fuck were you thinking? You freeze to death out there, what do you think will happen to Lyds? She's got enough people on this side already…"

He started to turn and leave him there, belatedly remembering the cigarette still hanging from his lips, and searched his pockets for another match. After his first good draw of smoke, he glanced back, and frowned at the sight of the guy completely unmoved, a glassy look to his eye. The man was way too pale… _Hell, don't tell me I gotta pull some nice guy shit_…

Ah well, it was Lyds's old man, right? He leaned back a little, against nothing at all, and considered the man for upwards of a minute, before grunting, and hooking a thumb towards the kitchen. "You look like you could use a cup of coffee, Chuck. Why don't you come lose your mind in the kitchen for a while instead, while I get a pot going?"

Edmond lifted his head, looking utterly bewildered, as if he simply couldn't understand the words the ghost was saying. Beetlejuice grimaced, made a motion as if he were still holding a cup, he'd discarded his, and made a gesture of sipping it. "Coffee. Understand? No more drinkee-drinkee. Coffee."

A look that at another time, Beetlejuice would have sworn was amusement, crossed Lydia's father's face… But he just grunted in acknowledgement, following the poltergeist into the kitchen without another word. Beetlejuice wondered what the hell he was getting into… But shit, he had to make some kind of effort to make nice with his girl's family, and this guy was, so far, the only one who hadn't tried to kill him, one way or another…

He didn't actually know how the coffee maker worked, but a little prodding suggested where the grounds and water went, and his juice took care of the rest. He felt a little antsy, waiting for the dark liquid to brew, staring at it like his gaze could somehow speed along the process, all too aware of Lydia's father watching him from behind.

After about a minute of this, Beetlejuice plastered a shit-eating smile to his face, turned to the guy, who was indeed staring a hole through him, and noted in as nonchalantly a way as possible. "Hell, guess you're gonna get that white Christmas that you breathers are always on about. Whenabouts is that, anyway? You know I never keep track of that holiday shit…"

A brief, puzzled look, crossed Edmond's face, and a long pause followed, as he clearly considered the answer. "Six days?" He muttered under his breath at length, like he wasn't really certain of the answer himself. With everything that had happened lately, Christmas was probably the last thing on any of their minds… "Hell if I know. We haven't even gotten a tree. I don't even know who I'm buying presents for anymore." His eyes grew glassy again, a long pause following, before he mumbled something about needing another drink.

"Yeah, and I need another snake up my nose." Beetlejuice grunted, following this, much to the suddenly riveted attention of Edmond, by pulling half a king snake out of his nose, before dramatically snorting it back up. He hacked, made a show of clearing his throat, and grinned, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened… And nothing had, for him. By this point, Lyds would have been laughing her ass off- He wondered just how many of the antics he pulled off these days were for her benefit- But her father just looked mildly intrigued, and otherwise unimpressed.

Huh. Clearly Lyds hadn't gotten her sense of humor from _him_.

"Anyway," Beetlejuice muttered, turning to get the man a much needed cup of coffee, "You just avoided ending up as a stiff from the cold, let's avoid drinking yourself to death, until I can prove to Lyds that there was no possible way I could have saved your ass." He dropped the mug in front of the man, a little harder than necessary.

Edmond stared at the cup, as if he didn't know what to do now. "I take it with cream and sugar." He noted, almost off-handedly. Like he really expected the poltergeist to get him cream and sugar.

"And you'll drink it black." Beetlejuice grunted, pouring a cup for himself, and plopping down across from the man. "In your mouth, if you're smart, but I can arrange for you to suck it up the other end, if you want… Now shut the hell up, and tell me what the fuck you were doing out there, besides trying to give Lyds another reason to start eating away at herself? 'Cause to be honest, I don't give a fuck what _you_ do… Hell, I'll knit you the damn noose if you wanna off yourself… But when it involves my babes, I'll tie your ass down, and hide every tempting glint of metal in the house, got it?"

Lydia's father, oddly, had little trouble meeting the ghost's gaze straight on- probably where his daughter got it from- but after only a few seconds, something approaching reason appeared briefly in his somewhat out of focus eyes, and the man sighed, turning to his cup. "You're right. Fuck, you're right. And it's not like I don't know the shit that's waiting for me, if I end up doing something that stupid…"

"Great. Got that settled." With a little slight of hand trick he'd learned over the years, he managed to pour some of the man's booze into his own coffee, without being noticed. Truth was, he hated it 'black' too.

But Edmond was already staring at him again, a sort of absent look to his gaze this time, as if he were off in a world of his own. Beetlejuice ignored him, as best he could, but knew that sooner or later, the man was going to break the silence with whatever liquor-inspired piece of wisdom was trickling around in his sodden brain. It still caught him off guard though, when all the man said, quietly, was, "Thank you," Before going back to his coffee. He didn't even grimace at the bitterness.

Beetlejuice knew he should let it go, but he frowned, not liking being thanked when he hadn't done shit. Not liking being thanked by a guy he knew damn well didn't like him, at that. "For what?" He grunted, eyeing the man warily.

Lydia's father smirked, an expression that looked oddly right on his stern face. "Nothing."

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He was just going to get a drink of water… Damned if he knew why he still needed things like that, after being dead all these years- death by drowning, for heaven's sake- but obviously he wasn't getting back to sleep until he had something to address the dry rasp in the back of his throat.

His feet headed for the bathroom, figuring that was the quickest way to quench his thirst, only to find the door locked. He frowned, briefly, his sleep-addled mind trying to make sense of this. Who else was awake at this hour? Knocking lightly on the door, he was met by a weighted silence, and then a soft, whispering, "Go 'way."

Blinking, Adam regarded the door with absolute bafflement, not sure which Deetz woman was crying now… Lydia or her mother. "Olivia?" He ventured, figuring that was the more likely guess. "Are you all right in there?"

"Mm… Yeah, just taking a bubble bath… Go 'way. I'm drowning my sorrows in lavender oil." Despite saying this, she didn't really sound sorrowful… Just tired. His ears must have been playing tricks on him. But then again, who got up to take a bubble bath at this hour?

"Oh. All right. I'll just get a drink downstairs." He turned away from the door, reflecting that either Olivia was far more at peace with everything that had happened lately now, than just a few hours before, or she was hip-deep in denial. He'd almost lay money on the latter… Poor Liv. Everything had finally been going so right in her life, and now it was all just going so wrong…

He'd almost reached the kitchen, his feet still unerringly finding their way while his mind was otherwise occupied, if not now by sleep… When he was greeted by the sound of a broken, coarse snore. He blinked, sighed inwardly, and steeled himself for whatever sight lay around the next corner. For all he knew, it was that damn poltergeist again…

And in fact, it was Beetlejuice, pulling on what looked like a bottle of whiskey, chair tipped back precariously, heavy boots up on the otherwise spotless table… But that wasn't all he saw. Edmond was there too, slumped across the wooden surface, empty coffee mug still clutched in his hand, a raggedy blanket thrown over his shoulders, dead to the world.

Adam scowled, and came into the kitchen angry. "Beetle-!" He began, catching himself even before the other ghost even held up his hand, making a short, negating sound. "What did you do to him?"

"Me?" Beetlejuice's eyebrows flew up, in mock incredulity. "Do to _him_?" A slow, revolting sneer spread across his twisted mouth. "You know, you're real funny Adam, when you're trying to be all big and intimidating. Bet the missus just loves it when you do that."

"Shit," He went on, tipping his head back a little, and lidding his eyes, "I didn't do shit to that sorry skin-bag. 'Cept give him something to cover himself with. I'll tell you," And he lifted his head, squinted his eyes, and did his best to look serious, "That boy's got some problems. And I can probably tell you the name of his biggest problem, right off the top of my head." This said, he returned to his booze.

"Why is he laying there on the table?" Adam demanded, adjusting his glasses with a groan. "Are you telling me you're not responsible for… this?"

"Hey, Adam, newsflash. The man's old enough to take responsibility for his own mistakes." He fished in his pocket for a piece of hot candy, rather liking the way it tasted with cheap booze. "Besides, he was dead drunk before I ever pulled his ass in out of the cold. What do you want from me?" His hands flew up a little, annoyed. "Do you really expect me to fucking carry him to the couch? He wakes up with a shitty neck, maybe next time he'll choose where he passes out more carefully!"

Adam tried to process all this, some of which made it sound like Beetlejuice had actually helped the guy… But pushed that away a moment later with a frown, as he, rather than the poltergeist, lifted Olivia's husband into his arms, and carried him to the next room. Rather irritatingly, Beetlejuice followed, looking more curious than anything. Adam threw the raggedy-looking blanket at him. "This thing looks like it was buried!" He muttered, doing all he could to avoid looking at the current source of his annoyance… Or what he was stubbornly trying to pretend was the current source of his annoyance. _Damnit, Edmond…_

"Hey… I was buried in that thing." Beetlejuice lied, tucking it up to his chest, like an offended toddler. "Little respect, buddy!" He held it up to his nose, and inhaled deeply. It smelled like grave dirt and mold… Well hell, _someone_ had been buried in it, so that made it almost true…

As Adam stubbornly ignored him, he wandered in boredom over to the couch, and considered the man now sleeping there. "Precious, isn't he?" He muttered, a little annoyed by how easily the living could get drunk, and how little they appreciated it. "Like a little shit-faced angel."

"By the way," He straightened, and gave Adam as earnest a smile as he could summon- It was actually a little disturbing- "I get the feeling that we started out on the wrong foot. Let's try this from scratch, okay? For Lyds's sake."

Adam just gave him a short glare. "You kissed my wife. You tried to marry a little girl. You _geised_ my goddaughter!"

Beetlejuice frowned. "There you go, dwelling on the past like some kind of goddamn breather…" He muttered, reflecting that it was just as well that he didn't know what he'd just been doing to his precious _goddaughter_ a few hours earlier. "Look, to be honest, I don't care shit for you either, buddy. But ain't either one of us going get rid of the other, right? So maybe _you_ oughta learn to let go." He'd almost said, _grow up_, but the irony of himself, _Beetle-fucking-juice_, telling anybody to grow up… Well, he would have shit himself laughing. And that wasn't the mood he was trying to go for at the moment.

A silence followed, and then, almost like a toddler insisting that mommy liked _him _more, he muttered, "You really have no right to even be here. If I had my way, you'd never see my daughter again."

"But?" Beetlejuice grinned, suddenly shifting his tact from placating the man, to really fucking pissing him off. "You don't. I ain't going nowhere, and I ain't losing Lyds. And you can't do shit about it." Pretending indifference, he started picking his teeth with his thumbnail, almost his trademark gesture for getting under people's skin. "So why don't you go worry about that hot piece of spectral ass of yours…" A slow, nasty grin, "And let _me _worry about what I'm gonna do to Lyds."

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!" Adam snapped, pushed way too far for even his patient nature. It didn't help that Beetlejuice laughter seemed to linger, even after the poltergeist was gone…

And it really didn't help to know that in the morning, as soon as Lydia realized he was gone, he'd be right back there with them… And like the man said, he couldn't do shit about it.

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	9. Broken Promises

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Hmm. Um… Yeah.

At least it's a large update, even if it is a late one... right?

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She woke gradually, one sleepy observation at a time, some time before anything like cohesive thought formed. She was warm. Almost too warm. That was unfamiliar, after all this time. The bed was soft under her. She wasn't as certain why that seemed odd. There were no strong arms around her. No ghostly tickle on the back of her neck. The smell of old, damp stone, deep in the earth… A familiar smell, a good smell… Was faded to almost nothing.

So it wasn't a series of thoughts, so much as a slow understanding, long before she opened her eyes, that Beetlejuice just wasn't there. But where was _she_? The last thing she remembered with any clarity, was lying with him in nothing at all, surrounded by impossible blackness. The odd steadiness of motionless candle flames, casting a soft glow across closed eyes… It was almost disappointing to realize she was back in her own normal, boring bed. And again, Beetlejuice…

She sat up slowly, wincing a little at the soreness somewhere in her lower belly, and ran her fingers through her hair, casting a careful glance around the room. Any worry she might have had though, vanished at the sight of her lover propped, rather uncomfortably from the looks of it, against the other side of her cracked mirror. His flesh shadowed where it pressed flat against the cold glass. Not snoring… utterly silent.

"Looking about as alive as a dead man can." She muttered under her breath, pulling the black cotton around her, until it swept down to her feet, as she stood. She considered him that way, standing there, clad in nothing but translucent bed sheets, and considered him in the mirror fondly, reflecting on the night before, until she felt her face grow furiously warm. "Huh." She murmured softly. Huh, indeed. What a night…

No regrets then. She dropped the corner of her covering with one hand, lifted her fingers to her lips, and gave a sharp, short whistle, intending to jostle the poltergeist from his sleep as rudely as possible.

It worked of course, he made a sound of surprise as he fell from where he stood, leaned against the glass, and sprawled out of sight for a moment, before scrambling to his feet, doing his best to look dignified, and like he hadn't just landed flat on his ass, glancing back and forth to check whether anyone had seen. Lydia snickered.

_This_ caught his attention, and he turned to her, first sharply, then with an absolutely smug grin, adjusting his lapels cockily, as he fluttered his eyebrows at her. "You know what _time _it is, babes?" He demanded, in the manner of a man who's been kept waiting… Though the question failed utterly, as he clearly had no more idea than she did.

"Never mind that…" She muttered, leaning her weight to one leg, and smirking at him mischievously. "What did you do now?"

At first, it seemed he honestly had no idea what she meant… Then slowly, he looked up, down, seemed to realize which side of the mirror he was on, and cast her a sheepish look, though his eyes glinted far too devilishly to pull it off well. "Well hell, Lyds… Can't seem to say shit right around those Maitland chumps!" His hands pressed, palms out, against the glass, and his expression turned earnest. "Come on, babes, let me through… We'll top off the night with a little hair of the dog… You know what I mean…"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how that expression's used." She informed him, a little smug with the power she suddenly seemed to have over him… Until he waggled his eyebrows at her, licked his lips, and gave her a look that was positively _dirty_, making her breath catch briefly in her throat. "Well, damn." She whispered softly, before a moment later, shaking her head, and turning to her wardrobe. "I'm going to take a shower." She informed him, with an indifference she didn't have. _A very cold shower_…

"Inviting me to join you? Come on, just say the words, babes…" She glanced at him, he had his hands folded under his chin, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. It was, a little disturbing. But oddly cute. "You know, normally water ain't my thing… But hell, you can make it worth my while, right Lyds?" He pressed harder against the glass. Little spider webs began to spread from the cracks he'd already inflicted.

Lydia turned that idea over in her head briefly… Get him to take a shower? Reasonably, she should jump at the chance, right? She spared a minute of imaging what he'd look like without his trademark shades of splotchy green, hair combed and in order, and twisted her lips up, considering it. Beetlejuice clean would be, almost weird. And then there was that smell of his… Like worn stone, in some dark damp cave. It had come to mean, well, _him_, to her, over the years. Old. Earthy. Good.

_I've definitely got some issues_, she noted to herself, determined to consider it later… after putting it off as long as possible. Beetlejuice was Beetlejuice, and she knew him the way she knew him, and a shower probably wouldn't make shit for difference on his dead self anyway… But she was going to think about it for a while first.

For now she just gave him a little smirk, like she was enjoying teasing the hell out of him, and turned her back to the ghost, flipping her jeans over her shoulder. All she offered for now, was the rather enigmatic, "Maybe next time, Beej," as she left him watching her leave from the mirror.

Beetlejuice groaned, but didn't object too much, still in too good a mood from the night before… And hell, he didn't really dig bathing that much anyway, he just didn't want to pass up the chance to score with his girl. So as disappointed as he was, he was also a little relieved… Secretly, of course.

It was an easy matter to skip from Lyds's mirror, to the one across the hall, though he pointedly didn't peek through until he heard her soft steps, and gentle breath, as the door swung closed. Not that he'd ever objected to seeing what people thought he shouldn't… But there were _some_ breathers in that house- okay, one- that he didn't particularly want to see in the buff.

Lydia of course, immediately saw him leering at her from the mirror, smirked, and swung a towel over the glass, leaving him with little other to watch than her lithe silhouette, as she let the sheet fall from her shoulders, and turned her attention to preparing the shower.

By the time that gravity took its toll, and the pale terrycloth fell away, the glass was almost completely fogged up, making him groan a little more genuinely this time, and try vainly to reach out, and wipe the steam away. "Babes… You're a damn tease…" He muttered, never intending for her to hear the words.

From her small laugh though, decidedly enjoying his frustration, she definitely heard. The corners of his mouth drew up a little in amusement. She wanted to play it like that, did she? Well hell, the girl was playing _his _game now… It wouldn't be long before she came crawling back for more…

"You know you love it." He muttered, not sure himself what he meant, as he sighed, and began searching his pockets, taking the opportunity for a smoke. "Gotta tell you though babes, you make me wait that long again, it's gonna put a serious strain on the relationship."

Again, that laugh, light, teasing, happy. God, he wasn't sure he'd ever hear that little shadowed silver laugh of hers again, the way shit had been going lately… Felt a little good, knowing he'd been the one to put that smile on her pretty mouth.

The dark shape of her head poked around the shower curtain, glimpses of falling shadow, and pale skin. "Let's try to get through today without any world-shaking drama, okay?" She murmured, the hazy shape of her arm lifting to brush aside dripping silk. "Maybe try to have a normal day, for once…"

Of course they both knew that was bullshit, and rather than humor her, he decided to see if he could make her smile more instead. "Babes, you are with seriously the wrong guy, to be asking for 'normal.' When the fuck did you start giving a shit about 'normal,' anyway?" A small sound of amusement, he couldn't tell if he'd succeeded. He squinted through the plumes of blue-grey smoke adding to the silver mist already between them. "We don't change for _them_, babes." He informed her, matter-of-factly, "Those frickin' dullards change for _us_."

"Us…" She echoed softly, just a hint of fondness to the word. Then, almost rhetorically, "When did it become, 'us,' Beej?"

"Hell," He drew the slender slip of white from his lips, and grinned at her with every uneven tooth, "It's always been 'us,' babes. You and me against the whole goddamn world." The cigarette went back between his lips, as he added, with more of a mutter, "Whole goddamn neitherworld, too."

But this was followed by a sudden silence from the girl, like it was maybe something he shouldn't have added. Rather than try to apologize, which wasn't really his thing- it would mean admitting he'd done something wrong, and he knew damn well he didn't do shit wrong- he decided to change the subject. "Cat got your tongue?" He teased. No answer. "Tell you what, babes… For you, I'll try this 'nor-_mal_' thing you mentioned. Just for today. But I gotta tell you, you're gonna owe me big-time for this one…"

"Yeah, yeah…" She murmured, regaining some of her former humor. "Hey, Beej? Are you gonna be able to fix my mirror? I've had that thing forever… I think it used to be my mom's."

"Well, hell then, I don't feel so shitty about breaking it." He muttered, as if to himself, but deliberately loud enough for her to hear. "Nah Lyds, sorry, it don't work that way. Mirrors are some kind of special shit that my juice don't work on right. Magics crossing wires, or something. Just about the only thing in this living world of yours that has any… Probably 'cause it's connected on our side. Bottom line?" A slow drag. "Get yourself a new one."

He dropped his cigarette, and ground it out with his boot, as Lydia slid the curtain open again. Confident he'd be let out any second now. Indeed, Lyds turned off the water, and stepped out into what should have been full view… And he found himself muttering curses under his breath, because he still couldn't see a damn thing. He could only watch, uselessly, at what should have been the sight of his babes, nude and slippery, casually getting dressed where he couldn't see.

Just as he was getting ready to loose a particularly vile stream of curses though, at least in his head, he felt, more than heard, the tingling of his name being whispered by his babe's chuckling voice… And the next thing he knew, he was on her side of the mirror, with the warm pretty thing tucked against him, clad in a long jean skirt, a bra, and- his wandering fingers quickly discovered- nothing else.

Her lips grasped his first, demandingly, her deft tongue teasing at his lower lip, as she murmured whispered nonsense against his mouth, before ducking her head to nibble at his throat. "Hell, all mighty…" He muttered, surprised and encouraged by the assault. "I've created some kinda monster…"

The remainder of the morning was given to muffled giggles, and his own utterly unrestrained, and unheard, sounds of joy, as they left Lydia's parents waiting for her to get out for another hour. She even rattled off an excuse about a bubble bath when they asked, rather off-handedly, managing an almost sleepy murmur for them to go away… All in all, a damn fine way to start the day.

When she finally managed to peel him off her, she hissed something in his ear about making himself scarce, which he did, reluctantly, lingering long enough to watch her shimmy back into the jean skirt that molded to her cute ass just about perfectly…

Lydia splashed some water on her face, reaching for a towel as she straightened, and paused, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Last night had been for Beej, more than her. But today? Today was different. She just wasn't sure if it was more, just having fun, different… Or defying her parents just as much as she possibly could, now that she was screwed in their eyes anyway, kind of different.

_I'm not that kind of girl_… She thought to herself, frowning at the flushed looking teen in the mirror, turning the faucet back on to splash herself again. _I'm not some loose-moralled floozy, jumping anything with a pulse… Well, hell, definitely not! And I've known Beej forever, and we've been dating a year, and I'm almost seventeen… That's a legal adult, by neitherworld law!_

And that of course, brought her right back to something she really didn't want to think about, so she pushed it away stubbornly, frowned at herself in the mirror again, and wondered if she could put off the lingering glow of pleasure to her eyes, as being from a really comfortable bath. Yeah. She was _really_ flying in the face of authority…

"Goddamnit," She muttered, folding the towel back on its hook, and giving her reflection a wry twist of her mouth, "If I'm almost an adult, why do I still feel so much like a stupid kid, trying to piss off my parents?"

There was no one waiting outside the door when she cracked it open, which she did, as guilty looking as anything, if anyone had been there to see. Running her fingers through the still wet strands, never one for blow-driers, she cast a glance either way, straightened her shoulders slowly, and told herself she was being silly. She'd faced sandworms down, for crying out loud… Big, hulking brutes, more scale than slime, with mouths inside mouths, horrible eyes, endless teeth, and a wail that crawled under the skin like something alive… She was _not_ scared of being judged by her parents.

Right?

"I'll buy that…" She muttered to no one at all, reaching instinctively for the banister, and having a sudden, giddy moment, as she recalled her best friend's colorful, gesture-accompanied tale of his first meeting with her family. She almost fell over laughing, completely inappropriately… Which made Adam, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his brushes up to the light, pause, and look at her with an odd little glance. Even if he didn't say anything, clearly he was questioning her sanity.

There was no point in fighting it, she figured, so she gave him a wide grin, which he attempted to return, even if the effort was a little strained. "In a better mood this morning?" He prompted, tucking the handful of brushes, almost comically, into his shirt pocket. "That's good, because we still have some things we need to discuss, young lady…"

"Oh Lydia, there you are!" Barbara came into the room with a forced smile of her own just then, the phone in one hand, the other clasped, as it turned out, quite uselessly over the mouthpiece. "It's Bertha… She's been talking my ear off for fifteen minutes, and I really don't think she can even hear me… I'm pretty sure you're the one she really wants to talk to, though."

"Barbara," Adam pressed, shooting her an exasperated glance, "This really isn't a good time. Couldn't you have asked her to call back later?" In response, Barbara gave him a patient little smile, indicating the phone with a little sweep of her hand, implying her own helplessness in the situation. Adam looked briefly pained, and somehow amused at the same time. "Oh." He agreed, clearly giving it up as a lost cause. "Right. But when you're done talking, young lady…" He left the implied threat hanging.

Somehow, it seemed things were almost getting back to normal. Sort of. Hell if she knew how, but maybe, since normal had never _really_ existed for her family anyway… Beetlejuice having secretly been around all this time, might be just one more cog in an entire machine of _what-the-fuckness_?

_Come to think of it, it just might be about time for a total family intervention_… She smirked, taking the phone obediently.

Beetlejuice waited- with just a trace of wondering why the hell they were going through this whole damn charade, when anyone with a brain had to know they were going at it like weasels- until Lyds tucked herself into a corner of the living room, deep in conversation, and then, only then, made his charismatic presence known. He strolled right down to the stairs, up to Adam and Barbara, who didn't notice him, too busy talking in worried tones, and threw an arm around either of their shoulders, before they even saw him.

"Adam. Babs." He greeted them, with every effort at seriousness, even if he was completely unable to keep the telltale grin off his face. "I gotta tell you… I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I'm completely willing to let bygones be bygones, and let you two be a part of our little family. What d'ya say?"

Diplomacy never had been his strong suit… His first real clue in life that he just wasn't cut out to be a Royal. But for god's sake, he was _trying_, so he didn't appreciate when both Maitlands threw his goodwill gesture off, the broad glaring at him like she wanted to feed him to _another_ goddamn sandworm, and her stick-in-the-ass husband saying something in a harsh voice, about how the poltergeist could _possibly _think this was funny…

Beetlejuice made a disapproving sound under his breath, shoving his hands in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels, looking like a slighted child. "Damn yuppies, don't _want_ me to do shit right… Couple'a poindexters… Oughta be grateful their kid's hanging around with a stand-up guy like yours truly…" He continued to mutter under his breath like this, just like they weren't staring at him in disgust, and finally, leaning his back against the wall, he abandoned words, and just flipped the two of them off.

_Assholes._ Didn't matter. Lyds was his. Their opinions didn't count for shit anymore, anyway… Right?

_Ah hell_… Fact was, he knew it would probably always matter. Fuck him.

Quickly deciding that discretion, for once, might be the better part of valor, he pushed off the wall after only a moment more, leaving the two of them there with his babes, making some excuse about coffee. Not that he didn't need the stuff. He'd gotten shit for sleep the night before, and felt like someone had ground sand into his eyes with both fists… But that was nothing that a hot cup of caffeine couldn't fix.

Though he should have been expecting it, the sight of Lyds's parents in the kitchen, sitting together like some kind of buddies, albeit ones currently doing their best to avoid one another's gaze, surprised him a little. Not that he let it show. Instead, while Olivia glared dull daggers at his back, he helped himself to the pot of joe, turned with a flippant grin, and greeted Edmond like the guy even had any chance of remembering the night before. "You look like hell, Chucky-boy. How'd you sleep?"

"_Like _hell." Edmond grumbled, not even objecting to being called by Olivia's father's name. "But you knew that." He lifted his gaze, briefly, a glint of odd humor present therein, and offered a flat smile to the ghost. "I don't like you, you know. Even if you were the one to pull my ass out of the snow." But strangely, he seemed content to leave it at this, turning back to his coffee, cream and sugar surely present this time, without another word.

Left with the unexplained sense that somehow, he'd just pulled off a very unlikely victory, Beetlejuice turned back to his drink with a grunt of indifference… Then paused at the stack of flapjacks, still standing about a foot high, next to the stove. "That breakfast?" He grunted, without any real hope.

"That's _Lydia's_ breakfast." Barbara clarified, sweeping into the room like the clouds across the sun, though they both knew that was far too much for that tiny thing to eat. "You can go find something crawling in the basement if you're…"

"He can have mine." Lydia interjected, seeming to have chosen to hear only half the conversation, she too swept into the room, more like a sense of soft wind, than angry weather. She snagged Barb around the waist, gave her a little hug as she was about to object, adding, "Bertha invited me out to breakfast at that little diner I love, and I'd hate to see your hard work put to waste, Barbara."

Her father was the next recipient of a little sideways hug, with the addition of a light kiss dropped to his temple, before she turned to Beetlejuice himself, her eyes brimming with her current good mood. "Are you going to be able to stay out of trouble, Beej… Or am I going to have to bring you along, just to keep from you torturing my family?"

Beetlejuice made a show of weighing his options, tongue flicking across his upper teeth. "You gonna make it up to me later, babes?" He drawled, as sleazily as possible.

Before Adam could bristle protectively- the expression on her real father's face indicating he knew damn well the poltergeist was baiting them- Lydia grabbed the lecherous poltergeist around the waist with a little tackle, gave him a squeeze, then a shove, and grinned at him, completely unapologetically. "You will take what you can get, and be happy with it!" She informed him, in a no-nonsense tone. "I know both runes and Latin… Don't make me use them!"

Cackling at her empty little threat, Beetlejuice just nodded, smirking, and watched her run off, not saying another word to anyone. He didn't mind that she'd left him as the center of attention… It was a part he was used to filling. "Hell of a woman, Lyds." He noted aloud, to anyone who cared. He expected dirty looks in return… Hell, that was the whole point…

But instead, from the expressions on various faces, no one there could think of anything truly vile enough to counter this with… In fact, he could have sworn they grudgingly agreed.

How the hell did that work?

----------------

Lydia wasn't sure exactly what she'd be talking about with Bertha, when she met her at the worn-looking diner, but she was pretty sure it would involve ghosts. And of course, it did. Most pointedly, Beetlejuice. And Lydia didn't really mind. It was nice, finally just being able to talk about what had been a secret for so long…

"Wow…" Bertha had been stirring her milkshake, her chocolate _breakfast_ milkshake, into an unidentifiable liquid for the better part of an hour, and had not yet, to Lydia's notice, actually paused to drink any. "I mean, I knew he was pretty cool, for weird old guy…"

"He's not that old!" Lydia protested, before of course, she caught herself, and remembered that in fact, he was about six centuries older than her. "I mean, not physically…" She pointedly turned to her eggs, which, like Bertha, she'd been moving around with her fork, rather than eating. She was now drawing 'sand art' in the yolks… Mostly a bunch of bugs. And occasionally, the initials 'B,' and 'J.' Then she drew a huge snake, ready to devour them all, hastily, so Bertha wouldn't notice her mind wandering back to the poltergeist in question. "He'd be like, what, thirty?"

Bertha hesitated, considering her friend with a little half smile. "Mid-thirties, maybe…" She hedged, reluctantly. "I mean, maybe late thirties, at the most…" Lydia grimaced, lifted a forkful of the runny eggs, and popped them in her mouth, to avoid further conversation. They were cold. And sticky. "And I mean, he's _dead_… So it's not like he's getting any older, right?"

This of course, had been precisely Lydia's point. "Doesn't matter." She mumbled, through her mouthful of eggs. "He kinda can't be charged as a pedophile, on account of being a ghost." There was, she'd quickly discovered, no point denying her romantic interest in the ghost any longer… It had pretty much been the first topic the older girl had jumped on. "A biophile, on the other hand…"

"Huh?" Bertha gave her an odd little glance. "What's that?"

"Forget it." Lydia quickly gulped down another slippery mouthful of cold eggs, giving her a moment to collect her thoughts, before she went on. Time to jump straight to the subject both of them had avoided like the plague… "So, I guess I'm not really surprised that Prudence didn't come… How's she holding up?"

"With lots of fluids, and an occasional shot of hard liquor." Bertha admitted, almost guiltily. "You gotta understand Lydia… Pru's a science girl. She _never _knew what to think about that whole religion, life after death stuff. And I mean…" Her voice dropped, like this next part was somewhat confidential. "It is a little weird, you know?"

Lydia reflected on what Juno had once said, about some of the living just never being supposed to face the idea of living, breathing- so to speak- dead. It wasn't that hard to think of Prudence as one of them. On the other hand, neither one of them really knew all that much about what went on behind the scenes yet… And it was probably better to keep it that way. Indefinitely. "Yeah, weird." She echoed, softly. She kind of wished she could change the subject.

And abruptly, Bertha complied… Sort of. Going right back to the subject of her best friend. "So, like… Do you think it's kind of weird?" The goth girl gave her long-time friend an odd look. Wasn't that what they had just clarified? That it was weird? "I mean, he's been haunting your family for a while, right?"

"Yeah…" Lydia mused, reflecting that really, she'd been the only one of them haunted by him for more than a few days. Well, except that because she'd been haunted, _they'd_ kind of been haunted. Huh, did that actually mean she'd been haunted by him the least, then?

_Logic, babes…_ She could almost hear him muttering, looking like he knew something she didn't. _Stuff ain't worth shit, when you realize the kind of crap people use it to explain away. Least you're cute when you're trying to figure things out…_

Biting the knuckle of her thumb, she almost didn't hear Bertha's next question, too lost in her own Beetlejuice-inspired snippets of wisdom. "But… He was totally after your mom first, right?" Lydia blinked, slowly letting this register, and lifted her head to meet Bertha's gaze, suddenly not liking where this was going. "I mean, do you really think he's over her? It would _bug_ me… I'm not like you."

But Lydia didn't really hear anything, after the suggestion that her boyfriend might still have the hots for her mother. "Over her?" Lydia echoed, not liking the tingles of worry this brought her. Shit, she hadn't thought about that since they'd started being an item… Romantically, anyway. But damn if it hadn't used to creep in her thoughts all the time… Whether the poltergeist was just hanging around her, to get close to her mother. "He… never had a thing for her. It was just business. He wanted out."

"Huh." Seeming to realize she'd said something that steered the tone of the conversation towards uneasy, Bertha finally attended her own breakfast, looking guilty. After that, she couldn't seem to think of anything more to say.

But that didn't mean that Lydia's mind wasn't gnawing over this unpleasant thought like a dog with bloody gums, refusing to give up a sharp bone. If she thought about it though, she didn't really believe that Beej even liked the woman anymore… She'd jilted him at the altar for god's sake, and practically danced with joy when he got fed to a sandworm… Forgetting for a moment that it was Barb who'd fed him to said sandworm. After all, whenever he talked about her, he did tend to refer to her as '_that bitch_…'

But then again, back when they were first getting to know each other, he had tried his best with the woman again… Though his best had pretty much consisted of straddling her in the backyard, and muttering quiet threats, before her dad caught him, and sent him back to the neitherworld. But he _had_ said the woman was hot.

Then again, he said that about her, _Lydia_, all the time. Did she really believe he was just settling for her, because she looked a little like the woman who'd rejected him?

Ridiculous. They'd been best friends forever. And what did her mom have, that she didn't, anyway? Of course, that being the problem… They really were a lot alike, after all…

Lydia groaned, and pushed her plate away. "Thanks for the existential crisis, Bertha." She muttered, well aware that she wasn't using the term correctly, and still figuring it applied. She was _not _her mother. She'd made peace with that years ago, _with_ the poltergeist's help. And she had plenty of good things going for her, things her mom didn't, and…

_My first instinct is to run to Beej, blurt this out in his neck, and get him to tell me it's bullshit, _she mused to herself, as Bertha quickly tried to backpedal verbally, and take back anything she might have inadvertently implied. _Of course my next instinct is to never say a fucking word about this to him, because it makes me sound like the most insecure twit in Winter River_. The one thing Beetlejuice was not, after all, was insecure.

"No, it's okay." She heard herself muttering, wiping hands that had inexplicably gotten yellow and sticky, at some point during their conversation. Dumb. Dumb… She wasn't the kind of girl that worried about shit like this. She was a self confident young woman, beautiful, with a good head on her shoulders… And Beetlejuice had _said_ he loved her.

…Unless she'd imagined that, in the heat of the moment…

_Huh. Not as secure as I thought I was_. Of course she _knew_ she was being silly, but she still wanted to go home, right then, and throw herself in her best friend's arms, and just convince herself, silently, that this was true. He'd offer some wise-ass remark, she'd counter it flippantly… Her world would be put right again.

"Um, look, Bertha, I gotta go." She was still trying vainly to wipe the yellow goop from her fingers as she stood, casting a half-felt little smile to the girl who'd inadvertently sent her into this spiral of self-doubt, all the while assuring herself that it was perfectly _natural_ to worry about this kind of thing from time to time. Maybe even Beej had his insecure moments? She'd have to ask him some time… Even though he'd just deny it.

"Lydia, I'm sorry, I mean… I figured you'd thought about it plenty of times, and had some secret for not worrying…" Bertha waved away her attempt to lay her money on the table, substituting her own handful of wrinkled bills, her eyes filled with apology. "I mean, it would drive me crazy, thinking… _Shit_, no, I mean… You never get upset over stupid stuff like that…"

"Bertha!" Lydia grabbed the taller girl by the shoulders, which entailed reaching up pretty much as far as her arms could go, and giving her a little half hearted shake. "I'm okay! I just need to go home and see Beej, and remember _why_ I'm okay." She smiled, just a little, but genuinely. "He'll say something nasty and funny, and I'll be fine again. A girl can't think she's not the sexiest thing around, with a horn-dog like him drooling after her!"

Her friend gave her a little, guilty smile, dropped her arms around the smaller girl, and gave her a squeeze hard enough to make Lydia squeak. "He makes you _so _happy, Lydia…" She murmured, sighing. "I don't even mind that he looks totally gross…"

Already feeling considerably better, convincing herself if she wasn't convincing Bertha, Lydia snickered into Bertha's sweater-clad arms, and pushed her away, relieved to feel something as uncomplicated as humor. "I don't know… The mold isn't so bad… It kind of grows on you…"

Bertha blinked, pausing as she looked down at her friend, trying to figure out if this was some kind of pun… And then they just fell into giggles, because it was just that _bad_.

But she still couldn't shake that nagging undercurrent of worry, as she bid Bertha goodbye, and headed out into the world of brilliant, freezing white… She needed to see him. Then, just like she'd already decided, everything would be _fine_.

She sighed, her warm breath a pale fog, whipped away by the wind. "Beej… How can you make me so crazy…?"

----------------

Beetlejuice was pretty sure, at some point over the recent years, that he'd heard some crooner go on about playing solitaire with a deck of fifty-one… But it had never occurred to him, hearing that, just how pissed off a guy could get, finally realizing he was short one card, after losing three games in a row. At first he just kind of sat there, staring like there had to be some kind of mistake… Then his lips curled, revealing uneven teeth, as he sneered at his own utter stupidity.

That was it then. Lyds had been gone for the better part of two hours. Time to go fuck with the in-laws.

He gathered up his cards, stuffed them in his pocket, never one to let anything go to waste, and gave an exaggerated stretch, taking the opportunity to take a look around the room. By luck or choice, one of the Deetz's or Maitland's had been in the same room with him since his babes had split, probably figuring they'd keep him out of trouble… Even Chucky, with whom, both bored, he'd shared a game of poker. Cheated. And won five bucks.

But at the moment, his only choice of prey seemed to be the hell-bitch herself, brooding over a pile of photos, more or less nondescript shades of grey, edgy shadows, and indistinct shapes. Never graduated from black and white, like her kid had… Probably figured that made the subject seem darker somehow. Her daughter on the other hand, just had better resources… And in his opinion, a better grasp of the truly unsettling to begin with.

Picking his lower lip slowly between thumb and forefinger, he wondered at the best way to get a rise out of the broad… Without having it come back to bite him in the ass later. Almost casually, he got to his feet, and strolled over to the woman pretending to ignore him.

He squinted down at her pictures, put on his best expression of studiousness, and made a thoughtful sound in his throat. "Still doing the artsy-fartsy thing, I see." He muttered, as if this were the biggest waste of time he could think of. "Real cute… Spiders, bats…" He feigned a shudder. "Deep shit, Liv. Gotta wonder how you ain't changed the world, snapping still-shots of cobwebs."

For just an instant, it didn't seem like she'd rise to his bait, tensing a little, firming her lips into a tight line, and pointedly ignoring him. Her motions becoming just a little more careless as she flipped through her efforts. He smiled, seeing no reason not to. "You know, your kid… She's got a real eye for that crap too. Got pictures that'd make your skin crawl… But I mean, hell, I gotta take some credit for that, right? Taking her over to the other side, letting her snap away to her little beating heart's content…"

Olivia's hands stilled, and something changed in her, as she looked up, something hollow to her eyes. It made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck raise, just a little, though he couldn't say why. Like hell this bitch had shit on him… "I seem to remember asking to go to the other side. You asked me, '_why_?' Did you skip that question with my daughter?"

"Well, hell…" He gave her his cockiest grin, or his best attempt at the moment, considering this woman's eyes looked deader than his, "Seemed only right, her bringing me over here and all… Gotta tell you though, that girl? She makes a dead guy feel alive, you know what I mean?" The fact was of course, that _he_ didn't even know what he meant… He'd never even been alive. But Lydia sure did take the dull out of being dead…

"I could have made you feel a lot more than just alive." Olivia noted softly, something positively musing in the way she said this, and making no bones about the blatant suggestiveness of what she was saying, before she turned back to her pictures. "Maybe if you'd waited around, 'til I was older, things would have turned out differently." A slow flipping, her expression unreadable as she shifted, narrowing her eyes at nothing at all. "But then of course, Lydia would have never been born…"

"Huh?" At some point in her shifting, Beetlejuice's gaze had been drawn to her neckline, due no doubt, to the soft, almost murmuring quality to her voice… Or the way she'd leaned over, just right… "Uh, Lyds, right."

He pointedly directed his attention to the pictures again, lifting one with a smirk. "Gotta tell you, some time in the neitherworld could have only made these shots of yours better. But then, we know just how willing you were to hold onto your side of a deal, right?" A sound of distain. "Babes sure as shit didn't learn to keep a promise from you." He tossed the grey on grey back down onto the table before her, and turned his back, putting some distance between him and Olivia.

But she rose, watching him as he didn't quite leave, stopping at the far side of the room, to turn, and consider her again. "You always go after them too young, don't you, Beetlejuice?" She went on, not smiling as he flinched, just a little, at the use of his name, but something in her tone decidedly… not right. "First me, now my daughter… You don't know a damn thing about women, do you?"

"I know enough." He muttered, wondering what the hell this broad was up to. She was unsettling him way too much… He was the fucking ghost with the most, and her? She was a frigid little breather with a shit-load of issues, nothing more. He smirked, running his hand down the back of his neck. "I know how to make 'em squeal…" He left this hanging, saying nothing either way, about whether he included Lydia in that score.

"I bet you do." She smiled, without about as much emotion as curling stone, but just a trace of amusement to her tone. "But Lydia wouldn't know that, would she?" A pause, as Beetlejuice tried to think of _just_ the right way to answer that little question… "See, I know my daughter. I know teenage girls. And you're gonna have a long wait ahead of you."

This time, he could only give her a mute, bemused little glance, as he tore himself apart over just how much he wanted to see the look on her smug little face vanish… Versus how much Lydia really could make him pay. And miracle of miracles, he managed to swallow down what he _really _wanted to say, and just note, off-handedly, "Huh. You know _that _much, do you?"

"I also," Shit, was she walking towards him now? "Know you well enough, _Beetlejuice_…" He frowned at the repeating of his name a second time, "To know that there's no way in hell, your bed has been empty for the past year, just because you couldn't get into hers."

An irrational anger rose in the poltergeist… Normally the bitch would be dead on about him, sure, but for once in his afterlife, Beetlejuice was serious about someone, and it pissed him off to be openly doubted. Maybe especially by the woman who'd given him so much reason to hate her, over the years. He showed every tooth, in something almost like a grin, nothing at all pleasant in it. "Guess you know me pretty well, don't you, Liv?" He hissed, in a tone somehow almost exactly like her own.

"I know you want the same things from my daughter that you wanted from me," She agreed, coming to a stop only a few short feet away, and looking far too full of herself for his taste, "And only one of those things is out. But what you don't seem to understand… Is that that things have changed over the centuries. In Lydia's eyes, she's still a kid. Do you really think that all your scheming is going to amount for anything, in a sixteen year old girl? You're wasting your time."

Completely aside from the fact that Lyds was anything but a waste of the poltergeist's time… The woman was just beginning to grate on him now. "So what are you suggesting, Liv?" He sneered, unconsciously flexing his fingers, like he was getting ready to give her a good juicing, then and there, if she took so much as a single step closer. He didn't know what she was up to, but he knew damn well he didn't like it.

Olivia grinned, and it was altogether the most unpleasant sight he'd ever been forced to bear… And this was a guy who'd been on intimate terms with the inside of a sandworm's stomach. "You obviously need a _woman…_ Not a girl."

Despite every warning bell in his head going off, Beetlejuice's eyebrows flew up, just a little. This was a whole 'nother game… What the hell was this bitch getting at? "Yeah?" He drawled, fixing her with an intense, wary, but curious gaze. "You volunteering, doll?"

Lydia's mother made a small, derisive sound in her throat. "I _am _the one you wanted first. You can't tell me you didn't just go after my daughter, because she was _my _daughter." She took a step forward, a swivel of her hip, and a slow smirk. He almost took a step back. But he didn't. She was radiating something all right, but despite what she seemed to think, it wasn't sensuality… It was a type of hostile challenge, and his every sense was on the alert, trying to figure out her game. "So what do you say? I'm tired of playing Edmond's games. Aren't you tired of playing Lydia's?"

His eyes flashing, he regarded her like the obvious danger she was, never mistaking her for a minute, and answered her smirk with one of his own. "Well hell, there is something to be said for an _experienced_ woman, isn't there…?"

He caught too late the triumphant glint to her dark eyes, and the slight flick of her gaze to the side… But when he saw them, it felt like a snake, coiled up in his belly, was now wriggling its cold, warning way up his chest. He turned just in time to see Lydia spinning away from him, headed towards the stairs with a much larger than usual stride, head down hard, not saying a word.

Something hot rose in him, hotter than anything the ghost had laid his hands on before, and he roared, "Lyds!" before spinning back on her mother, who, her game played out, now clearly knew with every muscle of her body that she was in danger. He just made a guttural sound, lifting her with a thought, and sending her hurtling through the furniture, before giving chase to Lyds, his blood somehow pumping through him like some searing inferno, without benefit of a pulse. "Lydia!"

The door slammed, just before he got there, and he gave no pause to open it, just moving through the heavy wood, fast, to find his girl on the other side, oddly still, staring straight forward at nothing at all. "You can't fucking buy that!" He yelled, advancing on her… Only for the girl to spin, eyes lighting on him with some kind of grief and fury he would have killed never to see in her beautiful brown eyes. He stopped, hard, like he'd reached the end of his rope. "For fuck's sake, babes…!"

"Go away." She whispered, physically shaking, but her voice utterly unaffected, in a way that was just not _good_. "Damn it, Beej… Go away right now, or I'll _make _you go away."

"Lyds…!"

"_Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetleju-!_" She yelled, her voice wavering as her emotions finally burst… The poltergeist's eyes going wide, as he yelled, _Fuck, no..! _And then she just sort of stopped, mid-word, her eyes going still and wide. She swallowed, once. Her hand lifted to her chest… And Beetlejuice felt it. Felt the part of his power he'd put in her, reacting at the attempt to break the binding. Felt it like it was in his own damn body… And her lips parted, and she let out a soundless breath…

And folded in front of him, like a strand of grass weighted down by too much rain, just sort of… crumpling. He moved faster than he knew he could move himself, and he caught her, caught her and held onto her hard… And it meant nothing, because her eyes were wide, blank, staring. That slight flush of pain still coloring her cheeks. A look of utter surprise trapped on her soft pinks lips. Perfectly limp. Perfectly still.

"Babes?" It was almost hesitant, the way he said it. Bowed over her, grasping a strand of supple black between his fingers, eyes searching desperately for some sign that she was actually okay. But she didn't move. She didn't _move_. Her beautiful eyes didn't flicker. Her beautiful chest didn't rise and fall. And his fingers, when he sought her flesh, found no trace of a heartbeat.

Something in him snapped, and he reeled back, a soundless moan escaping his lips as he closed his eyes, and for one wild moment tried to figure out what to do. There was no question what had happened. Lydia Deetz was dead. And he had killed her. The only person who'd ever given a damn about him…

"Lydia?" A whisper, falling from dead lips, as he straightened again slowly, suddenly deciding that this couldn't be it, that couldn't be all… _It wasn't her fucking time_… Dropping her across the floor, as his hands doubled up over her chest, and pushed down, hard, once. Twice. Three times. A tiny jolt of his energy surging through her small, broken body each time. Again. Again. He wasn't going to let this be it. He wasn't.

"God damn it, Lyds…" He whispered, his voice cracking in his throat, as the world suddenly seemed hard to focus on. "Don't you die… Don't you fucking _die _on me…"

----------------


	10. Damaged Soul

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Happy Sunday! You know, instead of Happy Easter. Because I figure that, while not everyone recognizes Easter, pretty much everyone acknowledges that Sunday does, in fact, exist. So once again, Happy Sunday! Why do you need a reason?

Will this help? Or have you forgotten me?

----------------

"She's not in her room." Adam muttered tersely, leaning against the doorframe, the side of his fist against his temple. His lips pursed in tight uneasiness. "Where could she have gone, Barbara? The neitherworld? With him?"

"Not after what she heard." Olivia denied, interrupting anything the ghost woman might have said, as she prodded her arm lightly with two fingers. She was certain it was broke. Certain. But it was a small price to pay, it if meant getting rid of the poltergeist for good… "There's no way he still has power over her now."

Adam gave the woman, admittedly his oldest friend, and more like family, at that, a short, frustrated look. He wanted to say something. When she'd explained what had happened, her little scheme had left a pit of uneasiness in his stomach, certain that it couldn't really be so simple… Afraid that somehow, it could go terrible wrong, and Lydia would be forced to bear the brunt of it.

And now she wasn't in her room. There had been no yelling, no sounds of throwing things, nothing spontaneously exploding… Just a foreboding silence from behind the locked door, like the promise of all his worst fears come true. After what Olivia had done, damn her short-sightedness, there should have been some tell-tale signs of anger, of accusation… Something. It couldn't have been resolved that easily.

"I don't like this." Barbara whispered, as usual in tune with her husband's feelings, as she leaned gently against his side. His arm instinctively went around her, pulling her close for a gentle squeeze, meant to be reassuring, now a hollow gesture to them both. "Adam, I think something's happened to Lydia…"

All he could do was nod, a short, frustrated motion. "I know, Barb. I feel it too." His wife turned her face into his shoulder, no trace of breath escaping her dead lips, as they both seemed to wait for some sign, from god himself maybe, of what to do next.

The sudden, sharp trill made both of them jump, spinning around and almost knocking each other over, to stare with sudden fear at the simple black phone on the hall table. For a moment no one answered it… Though Olivia's only reason seemed to be some sort of bizarre expectation that one of them would. Then she rolled her eyes, made a soft sound of realization, and crossed to pick it up, only seconds before Edmond, who knew none of what had happened, approached to do the same.

Barbara's fingers tightened on Adam's arm, certain, somehow, that they were about to find out what had happened. Mother's intuition, maybe. But if they were finding out by phone, it couldn't be anything good.

A pause, after Olivia's initial, 'hello.' Then… "The hospital?" Suddenly all traces of calm triumph vanished. Her entire world consisted of four people, other than herself, and three were currently no more than a few feet away. "What's happening? Is this about my daughter?" Another pause, then her voice rose, angrily, desperately. "Yes, this IS Olivia Deetz! What about my daughter? Has something happened to her?"

After this, silence. Seconds ticked by. Then a minute. Then, without a word, Olivia handed the phone to her husband, staring at nothing at all, her face completely slack, her eyes empty. Edmond took the phone from her, and a short conversation followed. Adam didn't really listen. He was staring at Olivia, his worst fears realized in the woman's terrified features.

Edmond hung up, slowly. His hand was shaking. His jaw muscles, twitching at the corners. "Lydia's in the hospital." He said quietly, aloud. Presumably for the Maitland's benefit, since his wife had already heard the news. "She's… alive." This was said with little relief, and an odd halting. "They said she was suffering from heart failure when she was brought in." Another pause, and his eyes flicked around desperately, as if looking for some sort of explanation to this. "Heart failure." He said again, obviously having trouble accepting this. "My god, she's sixteen years old…"

Barbara reached for Adam without a word, closing her eyes, as if to deny the news. One thought went through both ghosts' minds… They had to go to their daughter. And they _couldn't_. Silent tears quickly followed, falling uselessly on her husband's shoulder, as he tried, equally uselessly, to comfort her. Too upset to speak, just putting his arms around her, hard, almost enough to hurt her, and trying to make her feel better by how strongly he was facing this. Only he wasn't feeling any stronger than she was.

_Lydia_…

"Get in the car." It was Edmond, he seemed to currently be the only one capable of acting on what he'd just heard, snagging Olivia by the wrist, and leading her towards the stairs, which she took without even seeming to realize she was moving. "It's almost a hundred miles to the hospital. We have to leave _now_."

Adam and Barbara were left behind, forgotten in the panic over their daughter. They could only stand there, watching her two living parents rush towards Lydia, while they were trapped here.

Their happy home had become hell.

----------------

Lydia sat there, surrounded by depth and blackness, a sense that was somehow as familiar as the back of her hand, even though it was like nothing she remembered. She remembered dying, but still had difficulty believing she was really dead. This felt like something else. Like nothing she knew of death. But it was still so familiar… She wondered briefly if maybe she'd been there, in that deep place, before she'd been born. Was dying like being born?

It wasn't just dark though. The stories spoke of them, and there they were. All around her spiraled the tunnels of light, some soft and beckoning, others so brilliant she shouldn't have been able to look straight at them. All called her on. To what, she didn't know. The way she'd always heard it, there was only supposed to be one tunnel. At the moment, there seemed to be so many, they could never be counted, stretching off into forever… But she ignored them. Right now, all her attention was focused on her body, lying there before her. The only thing from that world left that she could see.

It had never occurred to her before, just how small she really was. She'd never felt that small… And she certainly didn't feel anything like small now. She felt like she could reach up, and brush her fingertips against the stars… And not just small, but so utterly _breakable_. Her eyes closed. Clad in a flimsy blue paper gown, the sheet drawn to her chest, covered in wires. Barely breathing. Not moving at all.

She really had died, even if she wasn't dead now. But what was she? The answer of course, was obvious… _I'm dying_.

"Life lesson, Lydia Deetz." She whispered to herself, the sound lost in the folds of nothingness, and traveling on past her sight. "Anger isn't the same thing as hate." She sighed, and swore she felt the universe respond, with a breath of its own. It wasn't bad, dying. It wasn't what she'd expected, but it wasn't bad.

_Oh, Beetlejuice…_ In retrospect of course, it was all so clear. Everything was clear, now that she had time to think about it. Her mother had been baiting him. She recognized the signs now, remembering all his little tells… He hadn't been rising to her bait, he'd been goading her. Angry. Defiant. Proud.

And with no idea that she was right behind him, listening to every word. Goddamnit, why hadn't she just said something? Why hadn't she trusted him? Why did this have to happen?

The real question of course, was whether it was too late to fix things… She honestly didn't know. Looking at that fragile shell before her, it didn't seem like it would ever move again. Like it could sit up, smile, walk, or run. It looked used up… Like it had nothing left to give.

But… but she wasn't _ready_. She was just sixteen! She was in love, and learning so much about life, and finally seeing so many different things in the world, traveling to so many places under the poltergeist's powers… The same powers that now, might have killed her.

Did he know that would happen? No… no… she couldn't believe that…

So distracted, she didn't notice how many of the lights around her had blinked out, like stars burning themselves away, waiting for her to decide. She finally turned from the self she'd left behind, alarmed to see her choices blinking out, one by one. She tried to rise to her feet, only to discover of course, that she had none. She was nothing but thought here. Thought and feeling… And most of the latter was fear.

She was left to watch, helplessly, uselessly, as all the lights died away, until only one remained. With no competition left, it grew brighter and brighter, until it seemed to fill the whole sky, and suddenly… Her fear vanished. She was surrounded by warmth, safety, and a sense of belonging… This was where she was supposed to go now. She knew it.

Heaven?

Did it matter?

She wanted to shield her eyes from it, as if it would hurt to see, but it didn't… And she couldn't anyway. She sighed again, happily this time, and felt her breath being drawn away, and her with it, into the vast brilliance before her…

And then, just as she was about to forget the self she'd been before, just as she was about to turn away from her failing body forever… She felt a cool, tingling brush of fingers, against her hand. A hand she didn't have.

Pausing, she looked back. _Beetlejuice._ There was no doubt that it was him. No doubt that he was with her. Waiting for her to…

_Waiting for me to wake up_.

Oh god, she was leaving him. Leaving her parents, leaving the Maitlands, leaving Bertha and Prudence… Leaving _Beej_! Would she see them again? Ever? This wasn't the neitherworld calling her, she knew this beyond all doubt, and suddenly panic flooded in as, again, she remembered everything she'd be leaving behind. Simply being _alive_…

_Beetlejuice!_ She tried to turn, feeling like she was caught in some sort of current, sweeping her inexorably away from the world she knew. She had to believe he could save her, because she didn't believe for a second that she was strong enough to save herself. _Beetlejuice!_ Fighting an impossible pull, sucking away her strength little by little, the more she fought. Like parts of _herself _were being pulled away, parts of her _soul_… And still she struggled to get back to her body, not caring, in those moments, what she might lose of herself, if she succeeded. _Beetlejuice!_

But the tried and true method of reaching him failed, there was no answer. She knew as his hand fell away from her own. The struggle to get back to him was beginning to hurt. She had the sense that she wasn't supposed to resist like this, that because she was, something was going wrong. She felt like she was being torn to pieces…

"Please…" She whispered again, the way she had before, sound, in a place where nothing so tangible existed, "Please, I want to go back…"

And the nothingness folded again, at the sound of her voice, and the pull behind her lessened, as if the light suddenly had trouble keeping its grip. Sound didn't belong here. Voices belonged to the living, not the dead… And she realized it. And she suddenly knew how to fight.

"Let me GO!" She screamed into the nothingness, twisting with every ounce of strength remaining, screaming it again and again defiantly, at a god she couldn't see, or whatever powers that be ruled the vastness beyond the light. "_Let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go_! I want to live! I want to go back! LET ME GO!"

And this last, final burst, seemed to be what she needed to break the light's stubborn grip, and with a twisting, a spiraling, and a sense of falling, she was suddenly diving away from the paradise offered, preferring instead the broken, familiar body she knew. She wasn't ready to die. She wasn't ready to let go.

But even as she felt the clammy flesh closing in around her, familiar and solid, and all the things that she knew of being alive… She knew that something had been lost to the light. Some part of herself that she would never get back again. And as much as she just wanted to shout in triumph at her victory, part of her wanted to cry, feeling that part of her, just gone…

And then she felt the cool touch of a dead hand, against her own weak fingertips, and all doubt fell away. She'd chosen her fate. She would live with it. That was the important thing, after all… She would live. She smiled, and a single word somehow escaped her exhausted lips.

"_Beej_…"

----------------

He sat across from the thinly-veiled glass, his head bowed, eyes narrowed, as if somehow, by will alone, he could move the sheer curtain away, and see his love, waiting beyond. Of course, all he actually had to do was lift the smallest fingertip, and it would fly aside, as he wished… But it was the one thing he stopped himself from doing. He would not intrude upon her that way. Not Lydia. So he waited.

The dark red chair hadn't been vacant for a moment since he'd had it placed there the day before, after his failed wooing of his precious Lydia. He was waiting, one hand rested lazily along the arm, in the way of a predator, just waiting for opportunity… While the other held a slender black shape firmly, fingers fluttering from time to time, a sign of nerves he usually wouldn't allow, as he waited for his chance to be offered. Her parents would come through. One of them had to see how much better he was for the girl, and give him the edge he needed… He didn't care how.

It could be said that the last twenty-four hours had changed him, again. There was a grimness to the severity of his features, a sense of desperation written across his black gaze, that had lacked before. He was the crown prince of the neitherworld… Maybe soon to be king, and damn the ancestors he stole the crown from… The powers of death itself at his disposal, with all eternity behind it… How could it not be enough, to give him the only thing that meant anything to him at all?

"I would have rather," He whispered, a sort of low musing that had been repeated several times over the last hours, unaware that he was even speaking the words again, "I would rather she had never known what I am. She was willing to care for me, when she did not know I wore the weight of the crown. Perhaps… she would even have been willing to love me, now." His eyes flicked up, ever so marginally, taking in the shapeless cloth. "I was determined to make this failing of mine a strength… But what am I left with, if nothing I can offer her, is enough to keep her by my side? Not even the neitherworld itself?"

He lifted his arm, slowly, and touched the slender metal circle atop his head, before pulling it free, carelessly, from his shadowy waves of hair. Holding it there, grasped lightly at about eye level, he frowned, distracted, and noted how easily dismissible such a small thing was, if only no one knew its meaning. "What use, this bit of black," He whispered, more softly now, as if to keep listeners not even there from hearing, "If it cannot yield me the only thing I need to be truly happy? The one thing without which… I never can be?"

In a moment of frustration, he flung the crown from his fingers, as if it were some distasteful thing, and he could no longer bear the sight of it. In the same motion he stood, determined to take just one peek, one brief look, to see that all was well, to be certain… To be certain that Lydia was safe.

Not deigning to use his powers, he walked across to the concealing material, hesitating, before drawing it back with a light touch, intending to take just the briefest look. Just something to settle his restless soul…

Lydia was not there. It took him a moment longer than he'd intended to linger, to see that she was in fact, nowhere in her room at all. Something, where a living man's heart should be, tensed, and trembled at this disappointment, as well as with a sudden sense of worry. It was foolish of course, she had any number of reasons to be somewhere else… Not the neitherworld of course, or he would have been informed… But surely it was no reason to believe something was _wrong_…

Taking an unneeded breath, Vincent passed his fingers across the surface, searching, one by one, the other reflective surfaces in his love's home. Nothing. More quickly now, he expanded his search, covering more and more of the human settlement of Winter River, until he was certain he'd checked the surface of every last spoon and watch, every glint of metal or glass, and then, only then, did he truly acknowledge that something might be wrong.

Before he could dwell on it any longer though, the slender black shape in his hand let out a painful, sharp trilling sound, so abruptly to his otherwise focused thoughts, that he almost dropped it… In fact, did drop it, and yet, with the merest thought, yanked it back into the palm of his hand, before it ever hit the stone.

He didn't think for a minute that this was one of Lydia's parents, offering the opportunity he'd been waiting for… This was _bad_ news. He could feel it like he felt his own ghostly chill.

The device was unfamiliar, but its function simple. With a single press of a button, whichever of Lydia's parents was trying to contact him, would be able to speak directly to the prince, from anywhere they were, a world away. Juno assured him that there was nothing novel about it… And quite frankly, he didn't care. He had more important things to worry about.

"Vincent." He greeted the other tersely, uncertain yet who had contacted him. "Speak." A long pause followed, followed by a muffled sound, like someone gasping for air. His nerves already grated raw, Prince Vince had no patience for games. "Speak!" He snapped, his grasp tightening on the cool metal. "Do not waste my time!" He regretted it immediately of course, he was trying to use these people to get close to Lydia, that entailed them liking him.

He closed his eyes, briefly, and uttered, more softly this time, "Speak. Please."

This time, the person on the other end spoke. Halting, wavering, unmistakably female. "Vincent? It's Barbara… Vincent? Something's happened to Lydia." Something colder than death closed around the prince's heart, and for one brief moment, his world lost all meaning. If Lydia died, she would not go to the neitherworld. Juno had assured him of this much. If he lost her to death, he lost her forever. The ghost woman's next words almost didn't make sense to him. "She's in the hospital…"

The hospital! He almost fell to his knees in relief. As long as she was alive, then it wasn't too late. He had to swallow, repeatedly, before he could make his dry, dead tongue work. Even then, all he could manage, softly, was, "What happened?"

Another pause. He wanted to reach through the device, and pulled her between worlds, to stand before him, so he could physically shake the answers out of her. As he was, he could even do it. Instead he waited, terrified that every moment that passed, was one that took the girl further away from him.

Then at last, she answered… But oddly, it was if she was saying something she really didn't want to. "Lydia had a fight, with… him." Then, almost hurriedly, "We don't know what happened, only that she's in danger! Something about her heart! We think she may have tried to send him away, and-!"

This though, was all she said, all Vincent waited to hear, before interrupting. "Where is she now?" He demanded shortly. He could save her. He was certain of it. What his cousin had done, surely he had more than enough power to undo… She would be okay. She would.

And she would be grateful, and after what Beetlejuice had almost done? This could almost be a good thing. Or would be if she wasn't hurt. If she wasn't lying in some hospital, near death, and in pain.

As it was, he would make Beetlejuice pay. And this time, Lydia wouldn't stop him.

No sooner did he have a general direction to travel in, before he threw the device to the side, without another word, Barbara's plea for him to help her, lost, and rip the curtain free of its mirror entirely. All around him, the air wavered, snapped, and pulled. For the first time in his afterlife, the dead prince had true murder on his mind… And he would enact it with his own two hands.

Finding the right place took only seconds, he knew her too well, the way her shadow fell, the way her energy sang… But now, that breath of warmth he knew so well was almost gone, and he stared at the object of his affection with a horrified dread, growing in his gut like a sickness. "Lydia…" He whispered, the powerful royal, never so weak as he was in that moment.

The next instant he was at her side, moving through life and death so quickly that the powerful blast of bending reality sent everything around him blasting back, both in the neitherworld, and in his love's living world as well. All that remained untouched was her.

His hand closed instinctively on her fingers, a need to feel her there, solid before him… Still somehow within reach. But, she felt cold…

He shuddered, and lifted his head, eyes gleaming with something like madness, well aware that his cousin stood hidden, silently, not more than a few feet away. "What have you done?" He whispered coldly, unable to offer any more than this, too busy using every ounce of his energy to search through the darkness behind her eyes, in hopes of finding his precious Lydia, and bringing her back, before it was too late. She was there, lost somewhere beyond sight… Not the broken shell that lay before him, but _her_. And he would find her, if it took every last spark he could summon.

With or without her living body.

Beetlejuice didn't answer, but obligingly faded into sight, watching with a sense of pain and desperation that made even her angry suitor fall silent. It looked like someone had carved the man's heart out with a sharp stick. And still he didn't say a word, letting Vincent turn away from him in disgust, and resume his search for the girl that both men loved. Beetlejuice couldn't do it. Not any more.

But as royal heir, Vincent _could_. He _could._ He had to.

Only when he had found her, felt enough of her to know that she was beyond even his reach, did his hand fall away, and his gaze turn, with murderous intentions, to the man who'd done this. "Exorcism isn't good enough for you." He whispered, taking a step towards his enemy…

But if he'd expected Beetlejuice to back down, the other poltergeist clearly had different ideas. Instead he too began building his power around him, like a physical wall of light and energy, until every hair on his body stood on end. Like Vince, looking for someone to blame. And failing that, just looking for someone to pound on, until his own pain went away.

Vincent took a deep breath, and smiled, bearing fangs that could never pass as anything human. He brushed his fingertips against Lydia's one last time, and took a deliberate step towards her murderer-

Only to have the girl make a soft sound under his touch this time, staying him, sharply, as he spun to take in the realization that wherever she'd been a moment before, Lydia was now back, lying there not two feet away, doing her best to smile. His head swelled with stunned relief, and a prayer to some power that had to be greater than his own, to have brought her back. Her lips parted, her eyes opening marginally, not quite focusing, and she whispered-

"Beej…"

Even as he stared, refusing to understand that she called out for his cousin, not him, something broke inside the man, as he suddenly realized, as he never had before, that Lydia would simply never be his. Even now, after all the other had done to her, still she whispered his name on waking, in that tone, with that smile. Lying right there, right under his touch, almost looking right at him, she was just as far from his reach now as she had been only moments before, her soul a million worlds away.

Slowly, he drew his hand from hers. Beetlejuice watched, silent. His babes wasn't really awake yet. But she was _alive_. He wasn't the kind of guy who'd ever bothered mastering the kind of words that would explain what he felt in those moments. He closed his eyes, felt something in him give way, like wet Kleenex, and said a prayer to the breathers' god. The only prayer he'd ever said.

The next thing he knew, there was a hand at his throat, and he- no, _they_, were being propelled backwards, hard, through layers of steel, brick, and glass, with not a sound to mark their passing. Then came the fall… And the impact that followed. Asphalt disintegrated, coming in contact with the two powerful poltergeist's energy, billowing outwards, first in shards, then in a massive cloud of black dust. People screamed. Metal bent from the force of the wind it created, a terrible screeching that seemed as if it could only come from some damned soul…

And then Beetlejuice responded with a massive wrench of his own power, and the prince was flung backwards, concrete tearing up in great chunks in his wake, stones the size of a human head raining down upon parked cars, destroying everything in their path, with no mind for the breathers, scattering for their lives.

Well aware that the prince wouldn't give in so easily, Beetlejuice gave chase, even before the last of the debris fell, clearing a path through it with the force of his own movement, unconsciously directing it away from the crowded sidewalk below. Before he could reach his opponent, Vince met him in midair, and the force of their collision made a sound like thunder rip through the air above the small city.

Hand to hand, knuckles white, mad expressions on both men's faces, they tore at each other like rabid beasts… Energy crackling like localized lightning around their struggling bodies, an unholy darkness cast over the city, without a cloud in the sky. Again Beetlejuice threw the prince down, but then it was Vincent's turn, and Beetlejuice ploughed, half solid, through several walls of a local office building.

Neither one had any regard for the damage they were doing. Neither one gave a second thought to how many might die before their battle was done. All that mattered was the girl somewhere increasingly distant behind them, who didn't even know the two were fighting, much less over her.

And then, less than ten minutes after it had begun, it was over. He was lying there, beaten, his strength drained to within an inch of his afterlife, his clothes painted in his own blood. His nose broken, his lip split, his face covered in bruises… And still his eyes burned as he regarded the poltergeist who'd done this to him, like fires from some damning dream.

If it were anyone else, the fight would be over, and Beetlejuice would have won. But this was Prince Vince. One of the most powerful men who'd ever died, without having ever lived. And as the both of them remained that way, staring each other down, both men knew it was anything but a clear victory.

In truth, Beetlejuice too was exhausted. The prince was stronger, magically, still being an heir to the crown, and only centuries of well-honed tricks had left him the one standing instead. If the fight had carried on much longer, it could have easily gone either way. There was still a good chance, a very good chance, it could. The poltergeist might have won the fight, blow for blow, but if the man dropped across the concrete before him, to all appearances broken, got it into his head, he could destroy his cousin in a heartbeat.

His next words confirmed it, nowhere near the words of a defeated man. "If you go near Lydia again," He rasped, his voice blood and dust, and equal amounts of each, "I _will_ kill you."

Beetlejuice, fighting unneeded instincts to gasp for breath, succeeded in standing like the man who'd won, like he could even keep fighting if he had to, and sneered, reaching into his pocket for something to let himself look distracted, while he tried to recover the strength to walk. His fingers closed on a peppermint, and he almost laughed… But it wouldn't have been a laugh of relief, or triumph, or any such thing. He still didn't know if she was going to make it. If she was going to die because of him.

He popped the hard candy into his mouth, flavored with the blood that seemed to be pouring out of him even faster, now that the battle was over, and sneered at his rival. "There's worse things than death, prince-arino." He muttered. His teeth ached. His eyes felt raw from the power he'd put out. His head was killing him. But he did his best to throw it off. For now he'd won, and he wanted to act like it.

Vincent sneered right back, his torn lip curling, his gaze glinting with some remnant of power that could never be mistaken for a gleam of light. "I was _referring_ to exorcism, _cousin_." He hissed coldly.

His fellow poltergeist met the Royal's gaze flatly, without giving an inch either way. "And _I_ was referring to losing Lyds." He answered. He wouldn't give the prince the benefit of seeing him scared. But he was. For one of the few times in his afterlife, he was actually given reason to fear, and Beetlejuice was terrified. "But I gotta tell you, buddy… My babes would forgive me for offing you, a lot sooner than she'd forgive you, for taking me out of the picture." _Nice, Beetle… Hiding behind Lyds's skirts, and she ain't even here…_

But apparently his bluff worked- he didn't know his damn self if it were true- because the prince's confidence faltered, just so slightly, but still visibly. Beetlejuice knew he couldn't let it go at that… "Babes is mine." He finished, matter-of-factly, just as if it were true. "End of story." And with that defiant statement given, he tried not to hiss in pain, as he turned to walk away.

A pause, and he'd actually managed a few steps, if not as strongly as he liked, before Vince countered softly, "She's too good for you. You know that."

"Damn right, I know that." Beetlejuice agreed, without hesitation, relieved to be given the excuse to stop, and think through what to do next, without having to look all tough. "Look, I don't know the way you read it in those sappy romance books, kid… But someone's too good for you, and loves your ass anyway? You _don't_ fucking let them go."

"Me? I know damn well I ain't gonna do better than Lyds. So I _ain't_ gonna just back off, figuring she deserves better, or some shit." He glanced over his shoulder, grinning toothily, one step from the grave. "Do I look stupid to you, or something?"

"Yes." Vince answered softly, suddenly looking deeply tired. "You are a fool. You could never give her what I could. I could make her happy…" He trailed off here, and neither one of them said anything more. Beetlejuice sure as fuck wanted to deny it, and normally wouldn't hesitate… He knew damn well he made Lyds happy, and that she wouldn't be with him if he didn't… But now? With her lying back there in the hospital, because of his stupid ass?

Who the fuck was he kidding? He wasn't some noble self sacrificing guy, or any of that shit… If she'd take him back, he'd let her, forget the fact that his scheming had backfired, and almost cost the girl her life. He'd make it up to her. But he still didn't deny what Vince had said. Wasn't sure if he could. That didn't mean he thought for a second of letting her go. "Babes is mine," He said again, quietly, "End of story."

A small pause, almost a hesitation, followed by words that could be called no less than a plea. "And what of me?" Vincent pressed, quietly. "I love her, cousin…"

Cousin. When was the last time anyone in the Royals had admitted that he'd ever had anything to do with their family? Vincent… wasn't a bad kid. The fact that he could have exorcised his ass at any time, to get what he want, attested to that. He could have made sure Lydia never knew it had anything to do with him, too… He _wasn't _a bad kid. He just loved Lyds, no different from him. But Beetlejuice wasn't going to give her up. Not even for family.

His next words sounded cold, heartless, even to him. He pulled another hard candy from his pocket, didn't so much as turn around, and noted, unfeelingly, "That's your problem, Vinny. I stopped giving a damn about you Royals a long time ago." And it was a lie. And maybe it was only a lie, because they shared something neither one of them _wanted _to share. But it was still a lie.

And he still left him, lying there, without a second thought. He wanted to be there when Lyds woke up. And god knew he needed to sit down…

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	11. Good Intentions

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Okay… To avoid voicing my insecurities about this chapter, I'll offer a quick question… You all do realize that it was Vincent's touch she felt as she was dying, right? Both times, I mean. She just assumed it was Beej, but the fact is, he couldn't reach her where she was. She was able to come back because Vincent reminded her why she had to live… Albeit without realizing it. Or intending that to be the reason. And then, he didn't even get to keep her. So try being a little sympathetic to the gloomy prince's plight… He gave her everything he had, and it wasn't enough. That sucks for anyone.

Makes me want to hug him until he's not sad anymore… And makes me feel positively evil for doing this to him, too. But they couldn't both get the girl…

Damn it.

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They'd been sitting in silence for hours, long past the time when visitors were supposed to leave, none willing to abandon the still unconscious girl. But she was _just _unconscious now, Beetlejuice knew. While the two others cast worried glances at their prone daughter, he knew what she'd looked like before, when she was really dying, and could only feel something like relief in his gut, that she didn't have that corpse-like look to her pretty pale features anymore.

The silence of course, was driving him to gnawing his arm down to the bone… Or rather, he stood there, not noticing as he methodically scratched at an increasingly large red mark on his left wrist, eyes too busy watching his babes for the faintest sign of waking. Despite saying his name some time before, she hadn't really emerged from her near-death dream yet- not fully.

Neither of the Deetz's, mind, had any idea he was even there. But they had to suspect it. Olivia in particular kept lifting her head, casting a long glance around the room with red-rimmed eyes, parted her lips, as if to say something… And then offered nothing at all, just turning back to her daughter.

As far as Beetlejuice was concerned, that was a good thing. Not that he was opposed to a little more venting, this time with the bitch whose fault all this shit was to begin with, in his opinion… But the way he was feeling just then, he'd probably kill her. _Then _exorcise her ass. And silver tongued devil that he was, he still didn't think he'd manage to talk his way out of that one with his girl.

It was almost midnight before she stirred again… Just the slightest twitch of her fingers, caught immediately by her fanatically staring best friend, before her eyes fluttered open, and for an uninterrupted span of breaths, just stared into the darkness above herself, looking slightly puzzled. Then, softly, again… "Beej?"

"Lydia!" He didn't get to say a damn thing from his hidey-hole in midair, not two feet from the girl, before her mother's cry ripped through the air, making the girl startle, grab at her chest again, and give a little shriek of fear.

Before any further damage could be done, Beetlejuice shoved the woman back into her chair, hard enough for one of the legs to snap, and tip her backwards onto the floor. "What the _fuck _part of weak heart don't you understand?" He growled, not considering for a moment, that he might be upsetting the girl every bit as much as her mother.

Olivia stared up from the floor, not bothering to get to her feet, aged more in one night than she had in the last seven years. "Beetlejuice!" She snapped, clearly not thinking this through any more than he was. "Beetlejuice! Beetle- urg!"

This was a game the poltergeist had played for a long time, and no way in hell he was letting that woman get his name out a third time, not _now_. The fact that he had her by the throat, pressed against the wall, her feet dangling a few inches above the floor, didn't even really register with him. Or the fact that she was no longer breathing. He just bared every jagged, off-color tooth, eyes flashing like nothing human, and hissed, with forced control, "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

A hand took hold of his shoulder, not a second later, pulling him away from her, and he spun, fists at ready, still burning for a fight- only to meet Edmond's warning frown, as the man made none of his wife's efforts to send him away. "Lydia's been through enough tonight already." He said softly, coldly, but unlike Beetlejuice's efforts, his words the ones of a man who actually _was _in control. "I won't have either one of you upsetting her more. Understood?"

Grudgingly, Beetlejuice released his grip, and paid no further mind to his former fiancé, now folded like a wet doll on the floor, gasping for air. Behind him, Edmond helped his wife to her feet, but after that, he didn't spare her so much as another glance. His expression was nothing less than disgust.

Lydia had watched this entire scene unfold without saying a word, her dark eyes large and worried, and oddly subdued. Her lips, not just her skin, an unhealthy shade of her usual pretty pale, as her fingers tugged at her sheets wordlessly, gaze flicking from one to another, taking it all in.

Finally her attention came to a rest on the poltergeist himself, and something in her expression changed, becoming pained. "I screwed up pretty good, huh Beej?"

A twist of guilt and fury wrenched at his gut, and Beetlejuice just scowled. "Don't fucking talk like that." He muttered, pulling at his chin with his thumb, angry in fact, with everyone there _but_ his babes. "Shoulda figured something like this would happen, sooner or later… Not much of a loophole, anyway. No way in hell you could hate me, right?" This last, with an uneasy little smile. Never mind how the geis had worked, he wanted to hear it from her own lips. As much as anyone, he knew how death, or something this close, could change things.

A smile traced her lips, and something in her eyes grew a little less pained. "No," She agreed softly, lifting her hand towards him, in invitation. "I could never hate you, Beej." He paused only a second, before moving over next to her, sitting on the edge of the bed, a little clumsily, and considering her with a frown. When he didn't take her hand, she took his. But that had always been the way it worked between them.

She looked like she was still trying to wake up, like she wasn't completely sure she wasn't still dreaming. There was something weird in the way she kept staring at him, eyes devouring every inch of his face again and again, like she thought he wasn't really there, and might fade from sight any moment. It was a little eerie, the way she kept squeezing his fingers, just a little, eyes rarely blinking as her gaze took in every detail.

Then, abruptly, she released him, and laid back in the bed again, something almost physically changing in her manner. A slight flush of color touched her skin, and she began breathing a little more steadily, heavy lashes fluttering as she seemed to consider a return to sleep.

Instead she spoke, and when she did, it sounded considerably more like the Lyds he knew again. "So, it's bad, right?" She prompted, looking now to her father for the answers. "Some kind of heart problem?"

The man, though his features showed he was reluctant to answer, didn't hesitate in offering the truth. "Complete heart failure." He denied, in an odd monotone. Maybe not odd at all. Also coming over to the side of her hospital bed, and considering his daughter lying there, having come so close to losing her. "They don't know the cause, they don't know for certain how much damage was done… Lydia, they don't know if your heart is ever going to work right again."

From the surprised look in Lydia's eyes, it hadn't yet occurred to her that she might only have been given a temporary reprieve. That she might still die. "Hmm." It was a small, noncommittal sound, it meant nothing to those gathered around her. But inwardly, she was remembering, with an odd sort of clarity, the struggle in the darkness. The effort it had taken to come back just once. She had the damning feeling that she wasn't going to be able to do it again. Not without being ripped completely to pieces.

If a person tried too hard to hang onto life, did their soul die with them?

Pushing herself up on her elbows, just a little, she regarded her family. Olivia, looking more broken than she felt herself. Her strong father, desperately afraid. Beetlejuice… No, he was too hard to read, even for her. It wasn't one simple thing, like it was with her parents. Anger, fear, guilt- A hundred other things she couldn't name- making his eyes glow dully from sunken sockets, as he watched her. Nothing of the trouble-making, laugh in the face of the devil, maniacally grinning guy she loved.

Did he know, she had to wonder, feeling an odd emptiness in her gut at the thought, how close he'd come to losing her? For good?

"Huh." She said this time, just as softly, then, with a not entirely forced smile, "I think I'm going to be all right now. I'm not going to worry about it." At this answer, even her best friend looked at her like she was a little mad… But she wasn't. For what felt like the first time in her life, she was thinking very, very clearly.

_Loopholes_, Beetlejuice had told her before, more times than she'd ever counted, _They're always there. The trick is, finding them, without letting anyone else know you're looking_. And without even trying, Lydia had already found hers. Like it was staring at her with unearthly green eyes, full of worry and bafflement, not three feet away.

Finally Beetlejuice, only able to figure that the girl was either putting on a brave face, or seriously in denial, offered a knowing grin in return, and made a sound of acceptance with his tongue. "Shoulda known, babes. So what kind of bet you have going with Old Man Death, anyways? Always heard the Reaper couldn't say no to a good gamble…"

Lydia giggled, well aware the poltergeist was bullshitting for her sake, but not ready to let him know the truth just yet. She didn't want him to agree to her plan, just for the sake of keeping her around… This was one of those all or nothing deals. Either he married her because he loved her, and wanted to spend the rest of his endless afterlife with her… Or she wouldn't remind him of the ghost prince's words at all.

That him marrying someone from the living world, and her marrying someone from the neitherworld, meant the same thing to both of them.

Life.

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So the last few hands, he'd thrown to her, discarding first tie, then jacket… Now currently down to his socks, shoes, and boxers. What the hell was he supposed to do though? All she was wearing was the damn paper gown, and well… No use starting something they couldn't finish. So for now, he'd let _her _get an eyeful.

The hospital hadn't made her parents leave, even after she woke, though they'd been assured sternly this was a "one-time thing." So at the moment they were in the bed not ten feet away, still wearing their clothes from the day before, tucked into each other's arms in a way they never were anymore. And after Lydia staring at them for the first thirty minutes or so, looking sad, he'd flicked the curtain between them closed. No need for that.

And examining his currently dealt hand, he was left to wonder why he never had luck like this when he was _trying_ to win. He picked at the battered edges of the decades' old deck, wondering briefly if this was the same one he was missing a card from. It sure as hell wasn't one of the royal suits, if it was. He couldn't fucking remember.

A waft of his fingers across the tops, in a sort of feigned tell, switched his currently held cards with a random spattering from the bottom of the deck. And once more, Lydia won. Beetlejuice smirked, made a slow show of standing, playing with his waistband… Then kicked his boots off, with an exaggerated air. Lydia tried not to laugh, afraid she'd wake her parents. He kicked back up in midair, and waggled his still-socked toes at her.

A twist of his ringed finger brought the cards all flying back up into his hand, and he began shuffling them again. "'Nother hand?" He was grinning, Lydia noted. He didn't _look_ worried. Like it might have just been a one time thing, and now… Hell, life went on! Only she of course, wasn't buying it. Not that he wasn't a _good _bullshitter… She couldn't find even a trace of doubt in his gruesome good looks… But she still didn't buy it.

"Mm-mm." She denied, as she leaned back in bed, rubbing her forehead gently. The lack of light was beginning to be a strain on her eyes. What's more, she was getting hungry. She debated briefly on whether or not to call on her very own personal poltergeist delivery service… But was she hungry enough for hospital food?

"Come on, babes…" He leered at her, abandoning his place at the end of her bed, and coming to float directly over her, leaving them not more than a few inches apart, length to length. He indicated himself with a sense, somehow, of swagger. "It's just getting good! And I'm feeling _lucky_…"

Lydia snorted, reached up to press her outstretched fingertips against his bare, cool chest, and gave him a firm shove away. "Don't just float there looking sexy, Beej… This place is worse than miserable, and I'm _hungry_." He cocked his head at her, drifting a little ways away. Somehow his tie, and only his tie, was back around his neck, as he straightened the perpetually crooked knot with his fingers, absently. "And maybe bring me some music? And a decent blanket? And my own goddamn _pillow_? The one that smells like you?"

He'd started to say something, clearly some sort of flippant comment about how he wasn't her delivery boy, but at that last, he paused, considered her with a slow, sleazy grin, the kind he was best at, and cackled softly. "Well, hell babes… Since you _did _say I'm sexy…"

"_Damn_ sexy." She teased right back, tugging a few loose locks of hair over her face, like falling spider-webs, hoping it looked as seductive as she thought it did. "Please, Beej?"

"Huh." He continued staring at her, still smirking, but giving her a decidedly, '_You can't con a conman, babes,' _kind of look. "You know damn well I wouldn't let you get away with looking so goddamn cute, if you weren't laid up. Don't push it, babes." And then, with a snap of his fingers, all for show she was sure, he was gone.

A little relieved to no longer have to put up a show of feeling stronger than she was, Lydia closed her eyes, draping her fingers across them to block out the low light, and yawned. She figured she'd probably be asleep before he got back, if he didn't hurry. Maybe just as well. It was almost dawn…

"'Bout damn time you sent Beetle away. I thought that poltergeist would never leave!" A waft of familiar scent made Lydia's eyes fly open again, and turn to her left in surprise, to see the haggard, tired looking face of Juno there. "I tell you kid, this is why I don't take time out for doing good deeds. I just don't have the damn time!"

Lydia stared at her, wondering briefly what _she_ wanted. Couldn't a girl even recover in peace? What had she done wrong now? A slow frown formed across her lips. "You're not supposed to smoke in here." She noted, deciding the best way to approach this, as always, was by pretending she didn't care what rule she'd broken now. But heck, maybe the woman was there to wish her well soon!

"Yeah? Well, you can go to-" It was pretty obvious what she'd started to say, but she broke off, rather sharply, gave Lydia a piercing look, and amended, "No. Never mind. Don't do that." A small puff, before the cigarette disappeared completely. "_They_, kid. _They_ can go to hell."

Normally her little self correction would seem odd… At the moment, just the thought of the less than friendly destination made Lydia's stomach turn. "What do you want, Juno?" She asked softly, in no more mood to offer mind games. "I've had kind of a long day."

The social worker glanced towards the window, and smirked. "Looks like your day's just getting started, kiddo." Not deigning to grab a chair, she pulled one of Beetlejuice's moves, and sat down squarely in midair, crossing her legs with a tight little grimace. It certainly couldn't be called a smile. "So, that's pretty much it, kid. You were supposed to move on, you didn't. Now more of you is wherever you were supposed to be, than there is lying right there in front of me. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"Pretty much, yeah." Lydia agreed softly. She didn't feel that hollow ache quite so much anymore. Being around Beetlejuice just sort of filled up any longing she had… But she still didn't want to think on it too deeply. Still. "So, that part of me I lost… Will it grow back?" Might as well get that question out of the way right now…

Juno gave her a long, steadied look. "What the hell do you think a soul is, Deetz? Some kind of lizard's tail?" And that was pretty much as far as she went with that particular analogy, offering instead, "Let me give you some advice, kid. Next time the light calls you on, you damn well better answer. You only get so many chances."

Lydia sat up slowly, even as Juno dropped her feet back down, her piece of advice given, her good deed done… And before the ghost woman could walk away, denied softly, "There won't be a next time. I'm asking Beetlejuice to marry me, when he comes back." A slow turn, accompanied by an incredulous stare. "I'm staying with him." Lydia pressed on firmly.

The old ghost's eyes watched her, for upwards of three breaths, then narrowed slowly. "You don't want to do that, Deetz." She warned, something suddenly dangerous in her tone. "Goddamnit girl, you only get one chance to mess up that big, and then there's no turning back. I'm telling you, don't do it!" This was accompanied by much finger and hand gesturing. "Do you hear me?"

Lydia was silent for a moment, not answering right away. Seeming to give the simple yes or no question, more thought than it merited. Then she just sort of shrugged, lifted her gaze to the other woman's, and assured her calmly, "Yes. I hear you."

Clearly there was a communication problem here, but at the moment, it wasn't quite as clear which one of them was choosing not to understand the other. Juno gave her a long, steady glare, as if the girl made it her personal point in life, to annoy her… But that accomplished little, as the minutes stretched between them without a word, and Lydia clearly wasn't about to change her mind. Beetlejuice would be back soon. This had to be settled now.

"You're damaged goods, girlie." Juno stated as last, as coldly as anything she'd ever heard from the woman. "How long do you think you'll be able to hold his interest, half the person you were when he was actually willing to fight over you? She gave her head a short, thinly amused shake. "You obviously don't know that man the way I do."

"No, I don't." Lydia agreed, after a small pause. "But I do know that when I'm around him, it doesn't feel so much like part of me is missing."

Juno response was immediate, if not spoken. A sharp glance, a slight stiffening of her features… And a decidedly curious look, despite her best efforts to hide it. "So you're counting on the poltergeist to construct you an artificial soul, is that it?" She noted softly, pulling a pen and notepad out of midair, and scribbling down something Lydia couldn't see. "Not impossible… You know what he is as well as I do."

Both pen and notepad vanished, with no indication what she'd been writing. "But that's all it ever can be." She added, pointedly. "Artificial. As in, not _real_." A small pause, and a sort of depth-peeling sense to her gaze. "Most ghosts spend their whole afterlives in the neitherworld, trying for the very thing you're being offered on a silver platter here, kid. Something _more_. Something bigger than the rest of us can ever dream."

Another, longer pause, as Lydia took this in, probably without the weight she should be, right up until Juno found another way to put it. "Kid… Is staying with this lunatic worth more to you, than your own soul? The _real _thing?"

The question caught her off guard, and it shouldn't have. It was basically what the woman had been asking all along… And still Lydia found herself unable to come up with an answer that didn't choke in her throat, one way or another. Was staying with him worth more than…? She didn't know.

But it didn't matter, she realized a moment later, because however reasonable she tried to be about this, as logically as she tried to face this, it all led back to one thing. She didn't know if he was worth more to her… But she was still staying with him. Because for the life of her, she couldn't bear the thought of him just not being there anymore. Or rather… Her, not being there, with him, anymore.

It seemed though, that she didn't actually have to answer, because no sooner had she realized this, than Juno seemed to know it. Her lips pursed, and her eyes, rather than looking, disapproving, looked oddly, blank. "You've got no idea how long eternity is, Deetz." She noted quietly. "You're not even seventeen. You're too young to make this kind of decision."

Lydia answered with a smile, her moment of doubt fled… As she mused that, after all, eternity was just one day at a time. With her best friend. Not even confined to either world, for that matter. Only someone really greedy could possibly ask for more.

"Maybe I _am _too young," Lydia agreed, stretching a little, and allowing herself a small, oddly triumphant smirk, "But this _is_ when I've gotta decide, right? I mean, even if I wasn't dying…" She spared a glance to Juno to see how she'd react to these words, deny them maybe- she didn't- then shrugged, "I'd still have to decide now, right?" And she'd made her decision. She was confident. Calm.

And if some little squirming doubt did remain, questioning just how big forever really was, she was no longer giving it the time of day.

Juno was, oddly, no longer looking at her. Touching her lower lip with two fingers, as if seeking an object not currently there. Eyes, a little unfocused. Somehow detached, in a way she hadn't been, just a moment before. Unwilling to show… that maybe, in her own way, she approved. "Forget blind," She muttered under her breath, just the same, "Love makes people goddamn idiots."

This was all she said though, no more dire predictions, no more warnings given, as the case worker gave up on the girl behind her, as if as a lost cause, not even looking in her direction again as she walked back to her office. But the reason she didn't look at the girl wasn't because she disapproved of her choice, however she tried to let on. She'd had to offer this warning. She felt she owed the girl that. But she'd never been sure herself what she wanted to kid to say.

So it wasn't because she disapproved. It was because as stupid as the kid was being… Juno was proud of her. After all, every soul had its own idea of paradise… But most seemed convinced they should have it handed to them at the end of their lives, just the way they wanted it, with no further effort at all.

Instead, Lydia Deetz was determined to make her own, out of a world most people wanted nothing more than to escape from. And to find her own heaven, in a damned man's heart.

And thank god for that, too. Juno didn't know what she would have done with him, if he didn't have the girl around to keep him in check anymore…

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Beetlejuice regarded the scene of devastation fanned out around the hospital with an oddly satisfied air, a smug grin pressed across his pale lips. "Been saying it for years," He noted aloud, more to himself than the disaster relief scattered out across the damage, some fifty yards below, "Ghost _with _the most. Damn Royals can go to hell."

Anyone that looked up just then would have been more than a little surprised, because he was not currently trying in the least to be unseen. He was just a little too full of himself, now that the worst of the danger had passed, to think he had anything to risk from some small shit like that. Not after pounding the crown prince of the royal family into the living world dirt, just the night before. Lyds was awake, Prince Vince was no longer a problem… His world was right back where it was supposed to be.

Only of course, it wasn't. But now that she was awake, he'd just use his juice to patch her up, good as new. As long as she was alive, he could do that. Make that big beautiful living heart of hers, beat like new… Soon as he gave her a day or so to be strong enough to survive the little jolt.

He had no doubt he could do it… He'd proven what he could do, after all. He'd use the last little bit of a geis to help him repair the damage, without causing more… and then, without a word to anyone, he'd pulled that spark right back out of her, so this would never happen again. What the losers didn't know, wouldn't hurt _him_. Or _Lyds_.

So, paper bag clasped in one hand, pillow tucked under his arm, and the rest of it floating around him conveniently, he admired his 'work' with some pride, and little concern to whoever might have gotten in the way, before grunting, and ghosting through the wall between him and his babes. Already figuring out how he was gonna brag to her about it, when it seemed like she might enjoy that kinda thing again. He had no doubt she would, Lyds was his biggest fan. Even if she was acting a little weird at the moment…

He let out a little, amused curse, to see her tucked on her side, legs bent at the knees, breaths the soft whispers of a sleeper. "Wasn't gone that long…" He muttered, lifting her head ever so slightly with his powers anyway, and replacing the flat unsupportive thing under her head, with her pillow from home. The one she said smelled like him.

And he didn't stop there. By the time he slipped into the hospital bed with her, invisible, all but intangible, her thick black comforter was tucked neatly around her small body, her face buried into the aforementioned pillow with a small smile, music drifting up softly around them both, as the paper bag filled with all her favorite foods, still warm, sat off to the side, more or less forgotten. Even if it did smell damn good.

Beetlejuice tucked his arm slowly around her, careful not to wake the sleeping girl, and settled a single, chilling kiss, on the tip of her ear. Without ever waking up, Lydia's smile grew, and she snuggled back against his cold body, pulling his arm more tightly to her chest, and again, whispered, "Beej…" Like she knew.

_Right here, babes. _He thought to himself with a smirk, pulling her more firmly against him, and not above enjoying the lack of material between her body and his. "Lyds," He whispered aloud, his dead breath caressing the soft, warm skin of her throat, "I'm gonna take care of everything. You'll see. I'm gonna do right by you. Damn the rest of them."

This said, his eyes closed, and he listened to her breathing, such a fragile sound, promising that she was right there under his touch again. Without even realizing it, his own breaths moved to match hers. Determined that he'd never let them stop again.

It wasn't all perfect. He knew that sooner or later, there was gonna be hell to pay, for what he'd done the night before…

But for now, the poltergeist was with his babes, in heaven.

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	12. The One Last Bond

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

Added disclaimer. Night of the Living Dead. Not mine. The Rasmus's song, Immortal, not mine. And Beetlejuice? Still not tied up in my closet, I swear…

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Okay, the following dream sequence is, and I say this with some pride, the closest I've ever come to something like I might dream my own damn self, a quality I've never managed to capture well before in my writing, but believe I did this time. _After _the dream sequence, enjoying the _non_-dream sequence that follows. I apologize for this chapter being so short… But well, I think it stands best alone. That being said…

Three reviews people? Are you trying to make me sad? Thank you if you did review… And if you didn't, well, you're not being very nice, you know that, right?

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Lydia didn't dream that she was dying… She dreamed that she was dead. All laid out in a rich, blood-colored coffin, lined with dark crushed velvet, with a pretty feather pillow for her head. All around her were gathered her friends and family, taking their turns beside her still body, admiring the lacy black wedding dress she wore, and noting that she was 'such a beautiful bride.'

There was no mistaking that she might be sleeping. Her skin was a dull, waxy color, her features just a little sunken with death… Her chest simply not rising and falling with breath. She felt no reason to breathe. She was dead, aware of being dead, and trapped in her own spent mortal body, watching it all with eyes that remained closed, yet somehow aware. She felt no need to rise, to protest, to wonder how she'd died… Why she was wearing this dress… Why everyone smiled and shook hands, hugged, and behaved altogether more as if they were at a celebration, than a funeral.

Finally Beetlejuice came up to the coffin, grinning his crooked smile, all dressed up in a pinstripe suit and bright red bowtie. His hair was slicked in a ridiculous manner, like it might be dripping grease onto the cheap jacket he wore, and his eyes shone with nothing less than madness as he regarded the corpse before him. "Ready to take a walk down the aisle, babes?" He prompted, reaching down to elbow her sharply in the ribs, and cackling.

As the music started up, he reached down, snagged her securely by the waist, and to the cheers and applause of their guests, lifted her with little fanfare, and tossed her limp form over his shoulder like an old carpet. He paused to wave and grin, as she dangled lifelessly across him, pausing again with a little sound of surprise as she started to slip from his grasp, readjusted her, and gave all present a sheepish grin.

"Guess Lyds's is getting cold feet on me!" He noted, with a lopsided grin… Then turned, straightened in as dignified a manner as possible, and proceeded to stride down the aisle jerkily, his best friend's corpse lain heavily over his shoulder.

And all Lydia could think was that she was glad she didn't have to walk, because her feet currently felt like dead weight.

They stood, finally, before a creature that looked completely '_Night of the Living Dead_,' chunks of flesh missing from his face, his head lolling to the side, with an incomprehensible moaning as he attempted to read from a book with seemingly blank pages. He had no eyes though, so maybe it didn't matter… And his lack of tongue might explain why it was so hard to understand him.

But Beetlejuice stood straight and tall, like he'd never been happier in his afterlife, his hand planted firmly on her ass to keep her from falling, and took it all in stride, interrupting only at a point that seemed important, with, "Yeah, course I do! She's my babes!" And somewhere behind them, her father beamed, and her mother wept with happiness, and several dead musicians harmonized… badly.

And then Lydia knew it was her turn, knew it like she could somehow understand the zombie standing before her… Opened her dead eyes like she could have done it all along, smiled, and without being drawn from her boyfriend's shoulder, whispered…

"I do."

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Lydia's first thoughts, on waking, were that she wasn't alone. And for once, she didn't bother pretending she wanted it any other way. She tugged Beetlejuice's hand up from her waist, brushing the back of it against her cheek, and savoring his chill, before lightly kissing his grimy fingers… Then sighing, smiling, and reflecting that if her dreams were any indication, maybe she really should worry that she was too morbid, just like everyone said.

Nah. It was a beautiful wedding. '_Everyone_' could bite it.

Gradually other things became apparent to her sleepy mind. The smell of delicious food. The sound of familiar music. Her own, comfortable bedding, tucked gently around her. She reflected on all three, briefly, then, and only then, opened her eyes, taking in the less welcome sight of the hospital room around her. Smelling of chemicals. Emptiness. White and sterile and forbidding.

She wanted to go home. One day in the hospital, most of that sleeping, and she was already ready to go home. Never mind that she'd almost died the day before. Had died, even. She was taking care of that. _Besides, Adam and Barb must be so worried…_

Closing her eyes again, to shut out the frightening truth of where she was, she burrowed her face further into her pillow, and breathed deeply. She hadn't been lying. It did smell like him. Not just the cheap aftershave he wore, or the decided, clinging scent of a dank basement, but something somehow as old as time… Untouchable, unchanging. Beej… He'd always be there for her. And it was there in his smell.

Lydia started to tug at the poltergeist's arm, intending to wake him, and get her proposal out of the way as quickly as possible- not that she really thought he'd object- when abruptly she placed the music that he'd left playing, and paused at the words of a song she'd had to have played a hundred times, usually without even listening.

It wasn't the words that were playing now that made her pause though, and stay silent, almost holding her breath, it was the ones she suddenly remembered were coming. Her fingers, tightening on his unseen arm. Her eyes lidding, as she waited for them to begin… There it was, the part just before it. _Immortal love, is breaking the one, last bond…_

And then she closed her eyes, and let the artist's words ring through her head, for one instant, with a sense of falling. It felt, surreal. Like she was still dreaming. Words either guy in her life might have said to the goth girl themselves over the last few days, sung by a stranger.

_Surrender to my love. Sacrifice your soul. Your picture in the frame, is fading like a ghost. Never say goodbye, never be alone… Never say goodnight. Never say, die._

The sense of falling passed, with a return back into the chorus, and Lydia lay there, eyes closed, but unfocused, thinking that whoever they'd been thinking of, writing this song, had nothing on the wonderfully freakish poltergeist by her side.

_Cheesy_. She thought briefly, twisting her lips, as her breath steadied again. Reading so much into a few well written lines. It didn't have shit to do with her… And she was almost embarrassed that it made her feel a little more ready to face what would come next. But she would take what she could get.

"Beej?" Softly. Not sure he'd want to be woken. Not sure why the hell she was walking on eggshells around him, when she'd woken him from a sound sleep in a hundred rude ways before, each less concerned than the last. "Hey…" She squirmed in his arm, turning herself in his grasp, until they should have been left nose to nose… Only, well, she still couldn't see him. "Beej, you awake?"

His answer was an odd mix of a grumpy grunt, and even before the last hum of it had died on his lips, locking his mouth firmly against hers, never mind that he didn't bother letting himself be seen. It would have been a pretty weird sight, if anyone had walked in… The intensive care patient being tongue wrestled- because Beetlejuice was just not subtle in any way- by someone apparently not even there.

Honestly though, Lydia didn't give a damn. She'd never been one to kiss with her eyes open, so she wouldn't have been able to tell if he was visible at the moment or not… And by the time Beetlejuice finally let her escape his wandering grasp, albeit with a well placed pinch, he'd popped far enough into spectral view for her to enjoy the sleepy, pleased look on his face. Suggesting, as always, that something about the situation was currently perverting his already raunchy self.

"Feeling better, hmm?" Despite all his clear temptations to make use of the currently empty room, he settled for dropping a second kiss lightly between her eyebrows, yawned, and stretched, sitting up clumsily. She giggled and bit her lower lip, as she realized that her best friend was currently wearing _less_ than he had been, after losing to her at strip poker… And as she couldn't quite resist smacking him on the ass while he was otherwise occupied.

Okay, maybe grope was a better word…

Beetlejuice reacted with a playful growl, snatching her around the waist, and pulling her up, unprotesting, into his lap, where his current level of self control became _very_ apparent beneath her. Yet he settled for nibbling her ears, teasing her throat with his tongue, and mumbling positively the dirtiest things she could have _never _thought of, a challenging snicker deep in his throat.

Unable to resist a deep blush at his very forward suggestions, even if they were all in play, she suddenly became aware of the sight that would be presented if, say, a nurse, or- god forbid, her parents-were to walk in at this point. "You are gonna get me in so much trouble…" She protested, making him cackle in a way that clearly didn't give a damn.

So it didn't explain why he did in fact, stop, fingertips lying gently over her chest, silent as the lower part of his face pressed stilly into the softness of her neck… In fact, it took her a minute to get it. He was feeling for her pulse, wasn't he? And hell if her heart wasn't racing! That, probably wasn't good.

She took a slow, deep breath, tried to consciously slow the dangerous pounding of her heart, and laid herself against him, as calmly as possible. "I can't stand this, Beej." She whispered, sadly.

"Me either, babes." He grunted, sounding considerably more pissed than she was, though with the situation, or himself, she couldn't be sure. "Don't sweat it though, Lyds. I'm working on it. I'm gonna fix everything."

From the way he said it, he didn't mean the same 'fix everything' that she did. Lydia tipped her face up a little, regarding his unusually serious features, and wished she could kiss his agitation away. Well, maybe she couldn't, but she could _try_… Her soft mouth sought him gently, repeatedly, but only tenderly, trying her best to make it a sense of comfort, and not arousal. Though with Beetlejuice, who knew…

"I thought of something too." She offered at last, when it became clear that her attention wasn't even distracting him from his thoughts, much less soothing them. He made a small, absent sound. Like permission for her to speak, without any promise he was actually going to be able to listen. "I'm serious, Beej." She protested, pushing back from his cool chest a little. "Beej… Let's get _married_."

_This_, Beetlejuice heard. In fact, he turned to her so quickly, an incredulous look on his surprised face, that they almost bumped heads. "Say what?" He muttered, looking at her a little like he might have heard wrong.

Only a moment later though, the look cleared, as if he suddenly understood. "Oh, yeah. Immortal." The way he said it made her want to sink in her skin, but from the grin he gave her, that hadn't been his intention at all. "Look, no sweat babes, I can use my juice to fix you up, good as new. Hell, probably keep your ticker going strong for a couple hundred years yet…"

…And this was so not the reaction she was hoping for. When she didn't answer right away, his lips pursed a little in a frown, like now that he'd explained how it wasn't necessary, _she _was the one being unreasonable. "Think about it," She pressed, wondering suddenly if maybe she really misread this whole damn thing, "You'll be free, and I can keep visiting the neitherworld with you… And we don't have to worry about anything getting between us again. Isn't that what you want?"

To her surprise, Beetlejuice actually looked a little disgruntled at her offer. "Stopped thinking of you as a way out, a long time ago, babes." He muttered, not actually releasing her, but something a little more stiff in the way he held her. "Woulda' figured you for seeing me as more than just a way to stay."

"But… I stayed _because _of you." Lydia pointed out, beginning to feel both desperate and angry. "Doesn't that tell you something?" Though what was she really losing, if she did this Beetlejuice's way? So she wouldn't be young and beautiful forever… With his magic backing her, they'd still have centuries together. And it wasn't like he was the pickiest guy in the world, about the way a girl looked… Even if she did want to be beautiful for him.

Still, that was all it would be. Just centuries. Eventually, she would die, and… it just wasn't long enough.

"Yeah?" He started to push her from his lap, only for her to cling stubbornly, and irritated that he might be- god only knew why- he faltered at pushing her away any harder, clearly not having the heart. "Well… If you love the damn neitherworld so much, Lyds, why didn't you just fucking pass on? Get those damn in-laws out of my hair, wouldn't it?"

He didn't mean it. Lydia knew he didn't want her to die. She just, had to think of the right way to say this. But the only thing she could think of was the truth, and what if he tried to get all noble? Though again, this _was _Beetlejuice. And the most noble thing he could do at this point anyway, was care what _she _wanted in all this.

"Beej?" She lifted her head, and met his gaze as deeply as she could. "I… wasn't passing on, to the neitherworld."

Again, he went stiff under her. This time for longer. Then, slowly, inexplicably, relaxed, and gave a short, sharp laugh. It wasn't like any she'd heard from him before, and for the life of her, she couldn't read it. "Huh!" He pulled her against him harder, swinging over the side of the bed, and not yet seeming to notice that he still wasn't clothed. "Well, hell then, that's different! Let's get hitched!"

Supported by her currently naked, floating best friend, she gave him a puzzled glance as he grinned down at her, his eyes a shade of blazing green she'd never seen there before… Closer to fanatic than she'd have thought even the crazed poltergeist got. "So that's it?" She said slowly, making his certain look grow edgy. "You're not gonna try to talk me out of it, like Juno did? Tell me there's something better waiting, or some shit?"

"Hell, babes!" He grunted, swinging her up to sit on his shoulder, like she was three years old. "Something better than me? The old broad's shitting herself! Ain't nothing better for you than me! 'Sides, I'd go out of my fucking mind if you weren't around to keep me in line! You wanna do that to the neitherworld? Thought you liked the place!" And with that, though she doubted there was actually any need, he started towards the door.

"Um, Beej? Put some clothes on." She giggled, tugging at his wild hair to make him stop. "Besides, we can't go out there!" Beetlejuice cocked his head up at her, to give her a quizzical look. "What, you thought I was actually going to ask for my parents blessing? No way in hell!"

"So… eloping, huh, kid?" He might have actually looked a little relieved. "Shit, that makes it a hell of a lot easier! Look, I can get us a notary, a minister, whatever the fuck have you… Just tell me where, babes! I'll even get married in the fucking neitherworld, if that's what you want!"

Lydia reflected briefly on Prince Vince, and reflected that it would probably be best to dodge that bomb as long as possible. "Let's get married that other place," She denied, her eyes narrowing, "That spot we were before, when you stole my candles, and… well." He chuckled under her. It was a pretty odd feeling. "Seriously, you said no one can call you away there. Let's do this right!"

She started to wait for him to agree, then had a small moment of panic, as her hand flew up to her bare throat in realization. "Nhh, my ring!"

"Right here, Lyds." A tug from the pocket he now suddenly wore, and the long silver chain spun in the sterile hospital light, its treasures suspended below. "Didn't think I was gonna let 'em take it from you, did you?" His voice dropped, becoming husky, and oddly gentle. "Don't need the B-words where we're goin' this time…" A tuck of one arm, and a curl of the other, and she was sliding back down firmly into his grasp again. "You just enjoy the ride, babes."

Lydia smirked, snuggling back in his embrace, and gave the room that had tried unsuccessfully to confine her, sort of a victorious glare. Her parents, the doctors, Juno, even Prince Vince… No one could keep them apart. She'd have him now, as close as the ring she'd worn now for so long, and no one could do a damn thing about it. For an instant, she resented them all for even trying. No one understood how right they were for each other… No one but her and him.

So screw them all. They'd elope.

Suddenly she was swept into that familiar place, chilling fire, and the unique taste of Beetlejuice's magic on her tongue, like no earthy flavor she could describe. Hot, sparkling wine, burning with the taste of liquor and spices and warmed heat… Or something as simple and familiar as the feel of his lips against her own. Did it matter? She squeezed his arm, and ignored the fireworks of light and ice around them, breathing in the familiar scent that had followed her for so long.

Then they were there… Or at least, it all fell away, all the fancy glows of moving from place to place, and they were surrounded by darkness. For an instant, her breath caught in her throat, and she froze, realizing suddenly how much this place was like death… Half expecting that damning tunnel to paradise to open up, and pull her away from everything she loved, forever.

He felt her grasp tighten on his arm, as he dropped her feet lightly to the nothingness below, but had no way to know what prompted it. "Oh, _now_ you're scared of the dark, huh?" He teased her, never meaning to be unkind, but quite certain he got a dirty look in return, even if he couldn't see it. "Well, you're just gonna have to put up with it a sec, 'cause I got some things to take care of." He started to pull away, and made a sharp sound of surprise as her nails dug desperately into his skin. "Holy hell, babes! I'm not fucking leaving you, just chill out!"

When it became clear she was neither letting go, or explaining, he compromised, tucking his arm firmly into hers, while leaving his other hand free. He wondered briefly what had gotten into the girl… But there was time for that later. Working in absolute darkness, he used his mind's eye to dictate the flow of his juice, nudging a few ill gotten gains into place, and paying less attention to how where he stole them from, than the lithe warm thing in his arms. He didn't often do much for the girl, and god only knew why she put up with him so well… He could at least do this right. The shit could go back when he was done.

Then, with a twist of his magic, he set them alight again, not a couple dozen candles this time… But _hundreds_, stretching off into the darkness, and soaring high and intermediately spaced above. It was like being surrounded by countless, reachable stars… Each steady as a stone, with no wind here to cause the flame to flutter. Grays and blues and blacks and purples and whites…

Lydia's breath caught again, this time in amazement, and a sudden lack of fear, as the unmoving flames cast their glow all around them, at lengths of silk and satin both blood-black and deep red, spiraling every which way, regardless of gravity, while paper ribbons of lacy white spiraled in great loops to encircle them, like a child's maypole. Every inch of fabric came a mere breath from bursting into flames… And instead just cast a beautiful glow across everything, as color and light mingled.

Bits of broken glass, scooped up from broken bottles and busted wineglasses, spiraled around them more distantly, beautiful points of light that glinted electrically with his juice, twisting and spinning, with no indication to those watching which were candle flames, and which, discarded trash.

And there she was again, surrounded by countless light, swathed in layers of darkness, but this time with her love held firmly on her arm… And she swore she'd never felt so alive in her life. This was nothing like dying. Nothing like being born. This was beautiful in a way that only the chilling brush of his energy had ever been, colliding with her warm, living flesh. "Beej…" She whispered, tightening her grip on him again, this time not because she was afraid he would vanish, but because she wasn't certain she wasn't dreaming. No way _Beetlejuice_ could come up with something this beautiful!

He grunted softly, pleased with her reaction. "Call me the whole damn thing, babes." He invited, sort of gallantly. "Can't do a damn thing in this place… And won't have power over shit soon anyway. 'Sides…" He leaned down, grasped her hand, nipping lightly at her palm. "I've waited a hell of a long time for you to say it the way you're gonna when this is done, anyway…"

A warmth, not quite a blush, crept over her cheeks, and then she felt herself swallowed in an instant by the tingling kiss of his energy, accompanied by the soft brush of fabric. She looked down at herself, not surprised by her sudden change in attire, but more pleased than she'd expected, to see herself clad in a sweeping dress of thick black and white stripes, matching perfectly the suit he already wore.

She was so excited… Her heart was pounding fast, too fast, and when she could only look up at him with a look of mingled happiness and pain, he paused for a moment, uncertain, then suddenly seemed to realize the problem. Without even shifting his grip on her waist, she felt a tickling charge of hot, prickling magic, grab her heart in a solid embrace… And the next moment, the pain was gone, replaced by a light, thrilling feeling as she stood there, suspended in nothing, in a wedding dress and bare feet, surrounded on all sides by magic, and her best friend on her arm.

Forever. Hell, forever was nothing. Maybe not even long enough. Either way, she knew that forever with Beetlejuice, would be _anything _but boring.

And then they weren't alone, a tall figure with hollow eyes and gray robes watching them, as music suddenly filled the air around them, with a sound like organs and bells. Beetlejuice released her with one hand, straightening his bowtie, which was the only change he'd made from his usual attire, and grinned down at her with a positively smug smirk. She didn't think he'd ever looked happier.

He gave her a little squeeze, steered her towards the 'altar,' and noted, matter-of-factly as possible… "Shall we, babes?" And with a little chuckle, under his breath…

"Hell. This is gonna be _fun_."

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	13. Ever After

Beetlejuice is not mine. Not the bigger, greater idea of him, the original, that everybody, including me, loves and fan-fics. However, the Beetlejuice in this story, _is_ as much mine, as he _can _be, without violating copyrights… Which I don't want to do. Get it? Main characters, not mine, backdrop, not mine, story, mine. Enjoy, and please don't sue!

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Okay, here's where I apologize, not because I'm worried about my writing for a change, but because everyone seems to expect a wedding scene in this chapter, and I never planned to elaborate beyond the setting for it in the last. I mean, this was pretty much the height of their relationship together… I figured I'd leave it to the imagination, and start again, a few days into the honeymoon. I actually think I did okay. Er, sort of. A little. But this chapter is kind of important, being the epilogue to this one. I mean, it took a lot longer to get out than I thought it would. Thank you all for being so patient, and so supportive.

Mad Madam Me, you've said such wonderful things about my writing… I can't tell you how much it means to me. I hope in time, I can see my words with as favoring of eyes.

Cybernetic Mango, you asked so many times, it started to make sense. ;)

Roolsilver… You were my one hundredth reviewer for this fic. My first fic with one hundred reviews! I'd say that's ironic, but that's not the right word… Anyway, please enjoy.

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Warmth inside her… Like the hint of sunrise glowing from between her ribs, so clear and tangible she could almost see it as she lay there in his bed, half asleep. A tingling heat, almost painful, balanced by the cool press of his bare skin against her, as she lay against his chest, her head tucked securely into the groove of his throat. She didn't ask what he was doing to her. At the moment, it didn't occur to her to. Maybe she thought she knew.

His fingers, thick and callused against her soft skin, as he traced invisible patterns over her heart. Her breath against his throat. Admiring her perfectly smooth, flawless flesh. 'Seeding' her with infinitesimal amounts of his own energy, trickling across her exhausted skin like sparks of light, in the clinging shadow. Making her strong again. Making her heart sing. His heart sang too. He didn't know why Juno hadn't gotten on his ass yet… But he was going to make good his time.

Lydia turned in his embrace, pushing against him a little as she came more into waking, and peered at him from beneath heavy lashes, curious, but not alarmed. Beetlejuice grinned, revealing every jagged, off color tooth, as he continued his gentle ministrations, not the least put off for being discovered.

"What are you doing?" She murmured, catching his hand to stop it, and turning in almost the same moment, to pull the arm around her, and snuggle closer. "You said my heart was fine, now…"

A low chuckle, thick and sensual, and inexplicably honest, as if there were no reason left for deception between them. "Always room for improvement, Lyds." He followed this with a low growl, pulling her hard against him, and nipping the creamy skin of her shoulder, gently. "Think of it this way, by the time I'm done with you, you'll _never_ get tired!"

She snickered, reaching over her shoulder to tangle her fingers in his wiry hair, and giving it a light tug. "Marathon man… What, I can't keep up with you well enough now?"

"Like I said, babes…" His rough play became soft, lingering caresses from his hungry lips. "Always room for improvement." This wasn't the truth of course. No matter how honest he came off, he was always plotting something… And this time, it was evening the playing field. It might take some time, and a lot of patient coaxing… But Lyds had the potential for real power under that light touch of hers, never mind runes and out-of-date jargon, and he was damn well gonna prove that it didn't take his cousin's royal standing to bring it out in her.

But he could tell her that later. She was awake now, and in his book, that made her fair game. So he was a little surprised with his exploratory caress was met with a soft sound of scolding, and the girl, his _wife_, goddamnit, pushing him away firmly, and swinging her legs over the side of his coffin bed.

He still allowed himself a moment to admire her lank, bare form, as she stood, stretching unabashedly before him, up on her tiptoes, with fingers fanned, and reaching for the sky, before going briefly limp again, and glancing at him with a musing look from behind her veil of cascading strands of black. "You forgot, didn't you?" She scolded him, as the determined poltergeist made a show of reaching for her again… Though she didn't quite pull away.

A perplexed expression crossed Beetlejuice's face, and he frowned, wondering what the hell the girl could be on about now, that was more important than the two of them getting frisky in their sheets. "Come on…" He growled, falling back, and shooting her a frustrated look. "I fixed the damn floor so you won't fall through it, I sent the creepy crawlies packing… We've got new fucking silk sheets…"

"That you stole." She pointed out, not really condemning him in any way for it, as she sat back on the edge of the coffin, drawing said sheets around her, in an attempt to deter her husband's interest…

_Yeah right, she have any fucking idea how hot that is?_ He gazed at her in feigned annoyance from under lidded eyes. "Coulda' gotten in damn deep shit for that too." He muttered, snagging her slender ankle, and playing with her toes until she squirmed, trying to pull away. Beetlejuice however, did not relent, letting his fingers now trace his way up her calves…

"God damn it, Beetlejuice!" She snapped, in frustration more than anger- though that didn't stop him from flinching slightly at the long forbidden name. "It's Christmas Eve! You know I said I was going home today!"

Beetlejuice's lips pursed at her words, and his eyes grew sulky. "Thought you _were _home, babes." He muttered, finally throwing off his attempts to seduce her, to sit up in bed himself, and scratch uselessly at the scraggly, crusted mop of pale blonde on his head.

"And I thought you wanted _out _of the neitherworld…" She sighed, standing, and drawing the sheets with her this time, leaving him the one bare-assed in bed. She didn't need more than this, since the cold of the neitherworld didn't bother her anymore… She could guess why, but in the end, it didn't really matter. "Beetlejuice, my parents have to be going out of their minds… I almost die on them, then disappear out of the hospital without a trace, and don't say a damn word to them for days? Besides," She shot him a small, helpless look, "You know we gotta tell them, sooner or later."

Her husband- god, her _husband_- just grunted, shot her a nasty look, something he was rather good at, and rasped, unconvinced, "_Why?_"

Lydia made a face, followed by a guttural sound in her throat. "God, you are an _ass_." She informed him, in no uncertain terms. Even if she wasn't half as annoyed as she tried to come off. After all, this was Beetlejuice, it wasn't like she wasn't used to his moods now, or anything… "They're my family… Yours too, now."

He'd started to reply, sneer already plastered on his face, when the last part seemed to catch him off guard. Instead, he just stared at her, in something like speechlessness, for about a full minute, before his face screwed up, and he muttered under his breath, "Told you a long time ago, how I feel about _family_, babes…" And with an annoyed sigh, "Goddamnit, they really are my in-laws now, aren't they?"

"Part and parcel of the whole, 'we just shit in the face of the gods,' deal we made, Beej." She noted, with a forced off-handedness. Beetlejuice gave her a surprised look, then chuckled, wiping his hand across his face. Damn it, they kind of had done that, hadn't they? "Besides, I think you got off easy. And it's not like there aren't benefits to your new family."

"Benefits?" He gave her a dubious glance. "Like what?"

"Like…" Having turned away from him to search for her clothes, she turned back with a mischievous smirk, noting, "_I'm_ part of it too."

Having surreptitiously been sliding all his babe's clothes to new and better hiding spots while she was distracted, this seemed to catch him completely by surprise, and he blinked, staring at the girl in confusion. Family? Lyds? Gradually though, a slow, intrigued smile spread across his lips. "Guess that's true… You being my wife and all…" It was said in a sort of mutter, as if he hadn't really thought of it that way yet, but was anything but displeased. "Damn, babes."

Lydia just smirked. "You really didn't think this through, did you?" She mused fondly.

"Hell, Lyds," He answered honestly, finally getting out of bed himself, "All I was thinking about was keeping my babes from leaving me!" He scratched his head again, then smirked, and gestured to a decrepit looking dresser that stood in the corner, the oddly spotless glint of a mirror above. "Yer stuff's in the bottom drawer. Thought you might lose it."

Lydia rolled her eyes, made an indelicate sound, and bent over the set of drawers in question, giving the poltergeist the long look at her scantily clad ass he'd been bargaining for… However, only _some_ of what she was looking for seemed to be present. "Where are my bra and panties?" She demanded, straightening, and holding the wadded up outfit out in her hand, only slightly amused.

"Hell, what do you need those for?" He muttered, shooting her a dirty little leer, before snapping his fingers, and with no fuss no muss, dressing them both. "Fine babes, we'll go see the damn in-laws… _After _breakfast." His fingers drummed across his stomach, nonchalantly, as he added, "So… What's for breakfast, anyway?"

The goth girl smirked, dropped her weight across a dusty oversized chair, sending up clouds of filth that no longer even made her cough, and asked innocently. "Gee, I don't know, Beej. What's for breakfast?"

Beetlejuice grunted, made a disappointed sound like his tongue, and considered the floor around his feet thoughtfully. "Well hell, there's gotta be something crawling around here somewhere…"

"You got rid of all the creepy-crawlies," Lydia reminded him, not the least put off, "You're not fooling me."

"Ah!" He looked oddly victorious at her challenge. "But this is the neitherworld, babes! The creepy-crawlies here never stay gone for long!" And as if to prove this, he put down the heel of his boot, hard, on what might have once been a footstool, making it shatter into a pile of crumbling wood-rot… From which dozens of small, many-legged things scampered.

For a minute, Lydia just stared, impressed by the presence of the oddly captivating little things. Then, as her husband gathered 'breakfast,' she considered the glint of gold on her hand with a sigh, and a smile, muttering happily to herself, "My husband is such a…" But then, there really was only one word that fit him, wasn't there?

"_Beetlejuice_."

----------------

The mood in the room was, grim, as the two sides studied each other, one looking for lies, the other unable to offer a truth, because it wouldn't be believed. Christmas Eve, with no tree, no gifts, no trace of celebration. Barbara and Adam felt the tension as much as any of them, despite not even being involved in the current confrontation. Olivia looked as small as a child of five, her knees curled to her chest, her eyes downcast, withdrawn from the world, and the current situation, as much as possible. As if, if she just ignored them, they'd go away.

Edmond had changed more than either of the Maitlands would have expected of him, only a few days before. His eyes, piercing before, became something new, something almost too calculating, as if the problem he currently faced had nothing to do with his missing daughter, or her well being. As if, of all of them, he alone knew she was safe. And this utter lack of worry just wasn't sitting well with the officers currently questioning them.

One cleared her throat, the other officer's superior, something like anger suffusing her face. She believed the worst, clearly, and the fact that both parents made it pretty clear they were hiding the truth, or just out and out lying, suggested something that just didn't belong in her town. Not Winter River.

The other, a familiar face from years before, looked less certain, an absent expression to his features, as he twisted the lapel of his uniform. He'd dealt with the Deetz girl. Had a pretty good idea just how little control over her, her parents actually had. But even to him, that didn't mean that something here wasn't seriously… off.

And this state of tension continued, until the woman cleared her throat for a second time, tapped her notepad one final time with her pencil, and clearly decided to say what was on her mind. No more beating around the bush.

"I don't know what you expect to come from this." She offered to neither parent in particular, raising her cold gaze to both. "Your daughter almost died. Now she's missing. Just gone from the hospital, not twenty-four hours after suffering complete heart failure." A pointed pause, before, "Now you know as well as I do, Mr. and Mrs. Deetz… Your daughter did not just walk out of that room on her own."

Olivia lifted her gaze marginally, made a small sound of acknowledgement, and dropped it again, falling back into her self-made retreat, waiting for the problem to go away. Even if it was no longer clear just exactly which problem she was hiding from anymore. Edmond on the other hand, just nodded, a tight smile on his lips, as if at some private joke. Which again, wasn't helping.

"Oh, Adam." Barbara whispered, wishing more than anything that they could just _do _something… More frustrated and powerless than she'd felt since she first realized just how little a ghost could do in the world of the still living. "Olivia's falling apart… And he won't _do _anything!" Her hands clenched, unclenched, and she shook her head, starting forward. "That's it, I'm going to her!"

"Barbara…" Her husband caught her hand, gently, and drew her back to his side, tucking his arms lovingly around her. "We can't do anything until the police are gone. Don't worry, they're not going to do anything to her. I think it's pretty obvious to them that she's as upset about this as anyone."

"But if they take her away, we won't be able to do anything!" She protested, seeing her family fall apart before her eyes, and unwilling to just stand back, and do nothing. "We can't leave the house, Adam!"

His grip on her tightened, just a little, his lips pressing into her crown of curls with a whisper. "Don't worry, Barb." He denied, soft as steel, "If they try to take her away, we _will_ do something."

Though this offered some comfort to the ghost woman, Lydia's father, dismissed without a second thought by both, just sat there looking vaguely like the butt of some big universal joke. Smiling tightly, fingers drumming on the arm of his chair… Looking like _someone_, though it was not yet clear who, was very close to taking the very physical brunt of his anger, if he kept getting pushed. Eyes, glinting as he watched the charade before him unfold. As helpless as any of them to actually do shit.

"Tell us where your daughter is…" The officer started to press, rising a little from her seat in challenge, as if already having decided their guilt. Edmond stood in the same motion, hands balled into fists, ready to spill the whole goddamn thing whether she believed it or not, just to see the look on her-!

The door flew open before any of them could act, hard enough to make a solid, startling sound on the far wall, as every eye instantly flew to the previously locked door. There stood Lydia, in a black sundress, a black lace scarf, black sandals, and an equally black sun hat. Never mind the Connecticut Winter, which she didn't even seem aware of.

Her eyes scanned the still room, pulling her sunglasses from her face with a single, smooth motion, as she clearly debated just how exactly to interrupt the interrogation surrounding her murder. Not that she actually knew that's what it was. But bad, yes, it was clearly very bad.

Rather than speak, she turned, reached back behind her, and pulled the unhappy looking poltergeist into view, with a solid yank. "Oh ho, if I'm jumping into this buddy, so are you!" She informed him, sounding a bit wearied already.

Beetlejuice trudged into the open doorway grudgingly, shot those present a short, dour glance, then shrugged, and offered them all his best shit-eating grin. "Mom… Dad." He greeted them, not above finding humor in using the same line on Olivia, that he'd once used on her own parents. He gave a wide, showy gesture with his arms, and prompted matter-of-factly, "Guess who went and fucking got hitched?"

They could have heard a pin drop, in the silence that followed. Edmond alone didn't look surprised. In fact, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Olivia on the other hand, had an expression that said she was sure this wasn't real… Certainly she hoped it wasn't. Barb and Adam looked like twin statues, jaws hung ajar, staring in disbelief.

This silence was broken, of course, by the police woman currently investigating her 'death.' "And you are…?" She pressed suspiciously, like she wasn't quite ready to believe what should have been pretty obvious… If admittedly, as unlikely as hell.

"Oh." Lydia managed to plaster a half-hearted smile to her pretty lips, walked across the space between them, and offered her hand, without hesitation. "Lydia Deetz." The woman, taking her hand, lifted an eyebrow doubtfully. "That guy over there's my husband… um…" She paused, caught off guard for a moment in her own introduction, and cast a glance over her shoulder, at said husband. "Did we decide what your name was yet?"

"Nope!" He grinned toothily, now suddenly seeming to thoroughly enjoy the utter awkward asininity of the situation. "You pick, babes! Don't make a difference to me!"

"Right." Lydia turned back to the woman with a smile, as if nothing odd had just been exchanged. "We'll get back to you on that. Now if you don't mind…" Saying no more, she turned to her parents, gave them a guilty little smile, and murmured, "Um… I'm better now. That's good news, right?"

Before any of them could answer, it was the police woman who interrupted, with a sound of incredulity. "Better? Not five days ago you were in the hospital, suffering from complete heart failure, and now you're _better_? Am I just supposed to accept this?"

It seemed like an odd question to Lydia, if only because she really had no clue how to explain it any better than this, to someone who didn't know about the existence of the dead. "Um… Yes."

The woman's protests were cut off before they could begin however, by the other deputy's sudden willingness to speak, as he continued to stare at the oddly familiar man in the striped suit. "Um… Is that the janitor that walked you home when you were twelve, Ms. Deetz?" He prompted, not always one to remember a face that much time later, but… Well, Beetlejuice was pretty unforgettable.

"Err, you remember." Lydia did not sound particularly enthusiastic about this. "Yeah, we've… known each other a while." Before he could press any further with this, Lydia moved over, snagged Beetlejuice's hand, and pulled him back to where she'd been standing a moment before. "Say hello, Beej!"

Beetlejuice just pursed his lips, good humouredly. "You want me to fucking introduce myself, when we just said we ain't decided on a name?"

Lydia started to snap back in exasperation, already regretting her insistence to return home- really just bad timing on her part- when she paused, and a funny look crossed her face. "Well, what's wrong with the truth?" She asked suddenly, her voice oddly quiet. A moment later, she turned back around, smiled at the police before her, and introduced him simply, saying, "This is my husband. Beetlejuice."

The female deputy hesitated, looking at her a bit like she might be off her medication. "Beetle… Juice?" She echoed slowly. "Putting all else aside, you do realize that you're too young to be legally married, Ms. Deetz…"

"That's Ms. Deetz-_Juice_!" Lydia grinned, amused by her own sudden inspiration. The way the woman had said it, made it sound like two names… Well, why not? Beetle, Juice. "And we just got back from where it's very legal! So, sorry to miss my own funeral, or whatever it is you had planning here… But we've got a honeymoon to work on!"

Her husband made a sound of guttural amusement. "Hell, I thought that's what we _were _working on, before you dragged me back to this dump!" He hooked his thumb at the still open doorway, unmindful of all the heat they were letting out. "By all means, let's get the hell back to it, babes!"

"Stop. Right. There." It was her father speaking, very nearly the first words he'd offered since his daughter had first disappeared, some days before. He was on his feet, and if not frowning, still looking like he had a good bit he intended to say. He turned, briefly, to the two deputies, noting, in as dismissive a way as possible. "This is family business now. Lydia's safe, you've seen that… Now it's time for you to leave."

Lydia stood without a word as the two tried to protest, only to be led, forcefully, to the door, which was then shut on their still-protesting faces. _Then_ all hell broke loose. Beetlejuice of course, could care less… He just looked inordinately pleased to have pissed off so many of the people he liked the least, without even trying.

Tucking his arms around Lydia, despite the fact that this just raised the protests, and their volume, he whispered in the girl's ear, "Hell, babes. We can take 'em. These dolts got nothing on what we've seen."

Of course it would have been a really bad time to smile at his words, but with the arguments directed both towards her, and whirling among her parents as well, as they directed their anger at each other, Lydia found herself hard pressed not to laugh. They'd dealt with everything the neitherworld could throw at them, and her? She'd just come back from death itself. What the hell did she have to fear from her _parents_?

"Hey, Beej?" She whispered, taking a moment when the two of them somehow went miraculously unnoticed in the uproar. "You remember our little deal, don't you?" He just glanced at her, puzzled, but open to whatever punch-line the girl was going to throw at him… They did have a few deals going, after all these years… "Ever been tied up with silk sheets?"

Beetlejuice blinked, then cracked a grin, and in the midst of all the yelling, silenced everyone there, rather indignantly, as he began one of his utterly unrestrained guttural laughs. And Lydia smiled…

After all that had led them up to this, everything from now on was going to be _cake_.

----------------

The light drizzle had covered the damaged city for the better part of a week, freezing rain that ate straight through heavy clothes, made coats sodden, and kept anyone with sense, indoors as much as possible. The sky was a shade of gray that seemed as if it had devoured the sun at some point over the past few days, and things like warmth, or light, would simply never be seen again. It couldn't help but affect people's moods, as the icy wind drove the tiny droplets on with a heartbroken wail…

It felt as if someone, somewhere in that gloom, had recently lost all reason to live, and the sky was crying for them.

Vincent hadn't moved since the battle with his cousin, half reclined across the sidewalk, fingers pressed roughly to the wet cement, his head bowed against the wind. He was colder than death by now, but the blood had long since washed from the torn fabric of his royal clothes, not that there was anyone to notice any of these. He kept himself hidden. Invisible. Keeping his sorry state from the gaze of passersbys. On occasion, one would even walk through him, not knowing him there… And be left with no explanation for the sudden, deep-seated grief that would pass through them, and then be gone.

Lydia was lost to him. Everything he'd striven for, everything he'd worked so hard to achieve, it couldn't keep one mortal girl by his side. Couldn't make one living woman, love him. The fact that it was Beetlejuice she'd chosen over him… That meant nothing. He didn't even care. All that mattered, was that it wasn't _him_…

He had no desire to return to the neitherworld. No desire to rule the throne he'd striven so hard for. The circle of metal again atop his head was a cold, meaningless weight… And yet the more he cried, through the miserable rain that whipped around him, the more it felt as if soon, there'd simply be no tears left. So this was what he looked forward to. When he'd have nothing left to give. But it wasn't yet.

And incredibly, before it could happen, a slender shadow fell over him, and _didn't_ hurry on. Simply standing there in the unrelenting haze of rain, with no other reason for them to have stopped, but the prince grieving before them. Vincent paid no attention. Even if someone could see him, and it didn't seem likely, what did they care about some unliving fool, who'd failed at the only thing that ever mattered to him?

So the last thing he expected, offered softly through the thick wind, was, "Are you all right?"

Vincent looked up at the markedly female voice, briefly expecting his lost love to be standing there… But no, this girl, she was nothing like Lydia. She was dressed in soft indigo, with long flaxen hair, and round glasses set atop an almost tiny nose… An umbrella clasped in mitten engulfed fingers, as she peered at him with an expression, almost as fallen as his own.

"Leave me be, woman." Vincent rasped, the first time he'd spoken in days, turning his gaze away from the woman who, after all, was not Lydia. "I have no patience for company today."

A hesitation, before quietly, the woman prompted, "Prince Vincent?"

At this he blinked, and raised his gaze again, to take in the woman standing before him. She knew him? …Yes, and he knew her as well, he reflected dourly. One of a double handful of far distant relations who'd long since lost any standing in his family, chosen by him as part of his 'inner circle.' A fact that had won their fierce devotion in return… Though that still made it not at all surprising that he hadn't recognized her.

"Do not call me that." He denied icily, lifting his hand in a clear dismissal. "The only one for whom that name had any meaning at all… She is beyond my reach. I will be Prince Vince. Any who call me otherwise… Will answer to my hand. Now leave me."

He expected it to end at this, so when she only took a handful of steps away, and went no further, he deigned to lift his head again, beginning to lose patience. "And what it is you have to say then, that merits risking my anger?" He asked coldly, starting to rise, if only to cast the smaller woman into his shadow.

"A message from Juno." The nameless woman answered, not bothering to pause. Her voice, barely above a whisper. "The lady…" Here however, her voice faltered, just a little. "She has, been married."

Vince felt like he'd been struck, and his head even jerked back a little, with a sharp little sound. His dark eyes clouded, and he considered the bearer of this unwelcome news, wanting someone to vent his frustration on, but finding no one in the regretful looking woman before him. "And is it not said," He prompted softly, anyway, "That it is noften not wise, being the bearer of bad tidings?"

The girl lifted her head, pale blue eyes glinting with a sense of heaviness. "No one else would bring the message, your highness."

This surprised him, albeit it only a little, and he mused even more briefly over why this servant would be willing. "I suppose then, I know where my followers draw their line in serving me." He muttered, drawing his hand across his face, to wipe away some of the rain. "No matter. You have offered your message. It seems you were the only one I could count to do so. Now leave me."

At this second dismissal, the woman bowed, took a step back, turned, and started to walk away… Only to pause again, not more than ten feet distant, and look back to where the prince had resumed his place upon the cold, broken concrete. "If I may say, your highness…"

"I do that think that fits me," He denied, not looking up this time, "Lowness, is much more accurate. What is it now, woman? Will you not leave me? Will even you disobey me now?"

A pause, as his messenger thought very carefully on her answer, before speaking. He no longer seemed angry… But only a fool pressed their luck with the brooding prince. "You love this girl?" This was perhaps, precisely the wrong thing to say, if she were to judge from the sharp way his head rose, and the cold calculation in his stare. Even more carefully, his follower went on, saying, "She is called no friend to the royal family, your… ah, lowness." A pause. "What will happen to her, if you are so steeped in your grief, that another claims the throne from beneath you, now?"

Prince Vince continued to stare at her, none of the anger leaving his gaze. But slowly, those dark eyes of his became thoughtful, as the weight of her words rang true. Lydia was part of the neitherworld now, there was no question of this… A fact that his family had done all in their power to keep from coming about. She had given up dreams of paradise… And if anyone could make the afterlife hell, it was his relations.

"And what is the name of the one," He prompted slowly, finally looking at the woman again, "Who would risk her prince's anger, to save him from such err?"

The woman, girl maybe, took a step back, and curtsied deeply, looking just a little relieved, as if somehow, without his knowledge, the danger had passed. "Amelia, Prince Vincen-uh. Prince Vince." She finished lamely.

"Hmm." Again he stood, this time with more strength in the motion. Throwing off the broken shell of a man he'd been only a moment before, as if it could really be so easy. "I will assume we can keep this exchange between ourselves then, Amelia." Before she could agree, he shot her a short glance, and went on, as if he'd expected no other answer, "You will return to the castle, and be certain my followers are prepared for my arrival. Understood?"

"Yes, Majesty." She agreed, simply bowing this time, and forsaking the titles of a prince, for the title of the king he would likely one day be. In the next moment she was gone. And the rain, which had persisted so relentlessly, was abating.

He would be king of the neitherworld, he reflected, changing his sodden clothes for clean, new, dry ones, without so much as a twitch of his smallest finger. Lydia, she would come and go as she pleased. As she always desired. He could do this much for her.

Truthfully, he could do far more for her, if she desired. He would soon have the power to make her time in the neitherworld rival that of any heaven she might have chosen… Perhaps it made no sense, to consider such lengths for a woman who'd chosen another, after he'd gone to such lengths to show his love… But his feelings refused to fade. And the thought that he might still, in some way, make her happy… It was almost enough to salve that terrible emptiness in his heart.

"Dear Lydia…" He murmured, banishing the wetness from his inky locks with a thought, as he turned his face up to greet the brightening sky. "I would do anything for you… Even if you are not mine." A strange thought, that the soon-to-be king of the neitherworld would sway so on the faintest whims of a lost love… But, again, he _did_ love her. "I will devote the rest of my afterlife to making you happy." He mused, as if she were right there to hear him. "Forever is not, so long, after all." He'd lost everything, and it had changed nothing.

Shaking his head with a self mocking set to his lips, he lifted his hand, and found himself, in an instant, in the tall, grand halls of what would soon be _his_ palace. All around him, his servants, his followers, men whose loyalty he'd bought, earned, or beaten from them. Gathered in an instant, at the news that he was returning.

This was his kingdom. This was his world. And if they didn't know it yet, they would know it soon.

And Lydia? Lydia, who would have been his queen, was now free… He could let her go, if he had no choice. If he knew she was happy. And he would see to it that she was…

No matter what.

----------------

This is usually where I go on about how I should take a hiatus, and end up not doing so, but after my poor updating, I guess it's pretty obvious I'm not fitting my usual groove, or at least the one I like fitting. So- and no, this has nothing to do with it being the thirteenth fic, just another of those things I want to call ironic that really isn't- I'm, going to write something else for a while. And it will not be on this site, since it's going to be original work. I guess, maybe it's time I got back to my own characters and stuff for a while, right? Never gonna be able to publish my fan-fics, after all…

So, yeah, one hundred reviews, milestone, glad I made it. Hugs to all of you. Please write me. I'll still be checking the site, not as often, but I will. Maybe someday I can come back. Still have a few ideas, after all… Just not as much 'juice' left to write them.

Thanks for everything. I hope to hear from all of you.

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